Twist Of Fate
by Leiria
Summary: Five years after the decision to give up their son, a woman comes knocking on Hermione's door and tells her that she can either take him back, or he can go to an orphanage. It's been years since Hermione has seen or spoken to Harry after the choice left her unable to face him. Now she has to figure out what she's going to do with her second chance.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it. I make no money from this story.**  
**AN: I've had this idea more than once. It's time to see if it takes off for once.**

**Summary: Five years after the decision to give up their son, a woman comes knocking on Hermione's door and tells her that she can either take him back, or he can go to an orphanage. It's been years since Hermione has seen or spoken to Harry after the choice left her unable to face him. Now she has to figure out what she's going to do with her second chance.**

**Twist of Fate**

**Prologue**

Harry sighed as he stared at the locket in his hands. The S glittered up at him and he could swear that he felt its pulse beat through the chain. He wondered, as he had before, if his connection to Voldemort was anything like the connection between Voldemort and the locket. If so, he wondered what that would mean for the end of the fight. Would he have to die to save the ones he loved?

The thought moved Harry's gaze from the locket to the sleeping young woman just a few feet away from him. She lay on the bottom bunk with a look of peace on her face. Harry wondered what she was dreaming about and how disappointed she would be when she woke to realize it wasn't real. He sighed heavily and set the locket down on the table before he finally stood and stretched.

It had been just the two of them for a few weeks now. Harry knew that she missed Ron, but he couldn't help but feel joy at the fact that Ron was no longer with them. He wondered, not for the first time, how simple life could be without the redhead around. There would be no one to argue with or to whine about how things weren't going as quickly as he had hoped. Harry could still hear his own voice asking Ron if he actually thought that this would be easy and if they would be back by Christmas. His voice echoing through his memories actually made him feel ashamed of himself. Hermione had quickly realized the problem and had Ron take off the locket. Harry, on the other hand, had been looking for a fight.

Harry and Hermione both knew that the locket didn't make him wish to start a fight with Ron. In fact, Hermione knew that Harry was happy that Ron had abandoned them. Ron's words, accusing them of an affair, had not been entirely false. While they had never physically bridged the gap between friends and lovers, it was obvious to the two of them that they wanted it.

Harry sighed and walked over to Hermione. He knelt down beside her and brushed some of her hair away from her face. "One day, I hope I can tell you how much I love you," Harry whispered in her ear before he kissed her cheek. Hermione moved as if in response to Harry's touch. She smiled and rolled onto her back and Harry couldn't help it as his eyes traveled downward to her ample breasts. Teenage hormones made him want to reach out and touch her, but he wouldn't do that to her without her permission.

Harry didn't notice Hermione's eyes open. He didn't notice as she inhaled deeply on purpose, just to see Harry's reaction. She smiled as she reached her hand up and cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand. "Next time, tell me when I'm awake," she said softly.

Harry blushed. "I didn't realize you heard me," he said softly.

Hermione smiled. "I didn't realize you felt so strongly," she said. "I thought I was alone…"

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You feel the same?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said softly. She smiled up at him. "Harry, you can't tell me that you didn't know," she continued. "Ron may have been my boyfriend, but my loyalties have always been with you. I've loved you for years, Harry Potter. Ron just happened to ask me first."

"Will you be with me then?" Harry asked. "I mean, I know it's dangerous given everything that's going on, but I'd like the chance to make you happy. I'd like to be the one who catches you when you fall and picks you up when you're down. It's not going to be perfect, but I want to have the chance. I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

Hermione's hand moved to Harry's neck. She pulled him in close and placed a kiss on his lips. "As much as you want to be with me, Harry, I want to be with you. Come here," she said as she scooted toward the opposite edge of the bed. Harry took the hint and climbed into the bunk with her, laying out next to her the way he had always dreamed.

Hermione rose up over Harry and her golden brown curls curtained them off from the rest of the world. She moved in and kissed him, chastely at first. The kiss quickly grew into something more as teenage hormones took over. Harry was able to grasp at what he had only imagined just minutes before. The smell of her skin and sound of her soft moans aroused Harry in an almost painful way. When he felt Hermione's hand grasp him, he froze. Never before had anyone else touched him there. It was a feeling so intense that Harry didn't think he could hold himself back for very long.

Hermione kissed Harry's cheek before she licked the side of his ear. "Do you want me to stop?" she whispered. Her breath sent a chill down Harry's spine and he couldn't help but shudder under her touch.

"If you don't, I won't," he panted, unable to truly speak.

"I don't want you to," Hermione confessed before she brought her mouth down over Harry's once more. She reached for Harry's hand and guided it up her shirt. When he realized what she wanted, he wasted no time at all in cupping her naked breasts in his hand. Hermione's back arched as Harry massaged the soft flesh in his hand and cried out when she felt his mouth over her nipple through her thin nightshirt. His mouth was hot and moist and made her ache between her legs.

Harry unbuckled his jeans as he rolled Hermione over. He rose up between her legs and kissed her once more as he pushed his pants down to his knees. "Are you certain?" he asked her. Hermione nodded, happy that Harry had taken the time to make sure that she was willing before he took this too far. Harry kissed her one more time as his hand moved him into position. Harry eased himself inside of her and they both took a minute to relish in the feel of their union when he was fully sheathed. "My god, Hermione," Harry whispered, his eyes closed and his heart thundering in his chest. "You feel so good…."

Hermione nodded. "You too," she whispered. "Don't stop, please," she begged. Harry happily obliged.

It was more than a month later that Hermione stared at the stick in her hands. They had stopped to rest in a Muggle inn and Hermione had slipped away to the drugstore with the purpose of getting supplies. While she was there, she saw the pregnancy tests on a shelf and knew that she needed to be certain. Before she did anything else, she bought the test and took it in the restroom. Now, a plus sign showed in the little window and Hermione's heart raced with fear. She didn't know what to do. This wasn't supposed to happen.

She threw the test away as tears flooded her vision. She didn't think she had been so careless but she remembered that first time she and Harry had been together and she knew that they hadn't thought about it then. Every time after that, Hermione had taken precautions, but she knew it only took one time. It only took one moment of forgetfulness. It only took one tiny little cell and now she was going to be a mother. She wasn't ready for it and she knew Harry wasn't either. She made the decision right then that they would be giving the baby up. There was no way they could do anything different in the middle of this war.

When Hermione returned to the inn, Harry knew that something had changed. He took the groceries from her and set them aside before he took her into his arms. He met her gaze and didn't let her look away from him. "Tell me," he said softly.

Tears fell from Hermione's eyes. "I'm pregnant," she whispered. She saw the fear instantly appear in Harry's gaze. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment before she sought comfort in Harry's embrace. "We can't raise a child right now, Harry," she said thickly. "We're too close to this war to do it. I can't kill it either, so the only thing left to do is let it go to someone else. Someone who isn't so closely tied to this war as we are…."

Harry closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Okay," he said softly. "If you think that's what's best, that's what we'll do."

Hermione held Harry more tightly. "It's the only thing I can think to do," she said through the tightness of her throat. She let out a sob and Harry clutched her more tightly. He closed his eyes as he buried his face in her hair and wondered if their relationship would survive this. While he silently prayed that they would, Hermione wondered who would be capable of raising their child and if they would do a decent job of it.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was five years to the day that Hermione gave birth. She remembered the pain that made her feel as though her body was trying to rip itself in half. She remembered feeling too weak to go on. She remembered Harry holding her, urging her to push, supporting her in every possible way he could. She remembered how she had seen a head of black hair, but she hadn't ever actually looked at the baby. They were informed that it was a boy and that it was healthy, but they didn't hold him. They didn't name him. They simply let him go.

A day later, Hermione had been released from the hospital and they were on the hunt for Horcruxes once more. Ron had found them a little while later and no one ever knew that there had been a child. No one except for the two people who had brought him into the world. They had made the decision to keep him a secret because they didn't want people to hear about it and pretend to be sympathetic to their plight. They didn't want people to treat them differently and they didn't want to be chastised for not being careful. At the time, it seemed like the best decision. At least they had each other to lean on.

That is, until Hermione decided that she couldn't deal with the loss any longer. She told Harry that she couldn't look at him without thinking of their baby. She couldn't move on as long as he was right there with her. She told him that she needed to leave him and she hoped that he could live with that. Harry had argued with her and insisted that they only way they would get through this was together. He needed her. He wouldn't be able to do what he had to do without her because there would be no hope. If he had nothing to live for, why should the rest of the world be saved?

Hermione, guilt-ridden because she knew he was right, stayed with him. Harry knew that she wasn't happy, but she tried to put on a brave face for him. She tried to let him know that she was there for him. She tried to love him again. It wasn't that she had ever stopped, it was simply that it had become too hard. He was her constant reminder that she had failed as a woman and was incapable of being a mother.  
It was late at night when there was a knock on the front door of her flat. Hermione sighed and set her book aside. Five years to the day was the only thing she could think as she walked to the door. When she opened it, she was shocked to see an unfamiliar face.  
The woman was in her thirties, nearly ten years older than Hermione. She had mousy brown hair that didn't stay in its ponytail and glasses that were kept around her neck by a simple gold chain. "Miss Hermione Granger?" she asked.

Hermione slowly nodded. "Yes," she said softly.

"My name is Gertrude Hopcock," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm with the adoption agency that handled your son's case."

Hermione reached out with a shaking hand and took Gertrude's. "May I ask what this is about?" Hermione asked.

"Your son," Gertrude replied. "May I please come in? This isn't a conversation to have on the front step."

Hermione nodded and opened the door wide to allow Gertrude to enter. The woman took a seat on Hermione's sofa and Hermione stiffly sat in the nearby chair. Gertrude cleared her throat and pulled some paperwork from her satchel.

"As you know, this is a very rare visit," she began. "When you and Mr. Potter requested the adoption, you also requested that it be a closed adoption. We always try to respect the wishes of the natural parents, but in a case such as this, we feel that this is the best course of action as many of our clients wish later on that they didn't have to make the choice they did, especially in times of war as happened with the two of you."

Hermione held up her hand. "What happened?" she asked.

Gertrude sighed heavily. "Your son's adopted parents were killed in an accident," she replied. Hermione felt the shock wash over her in a cold wave. "They had no living relatives. We can place him in another home or we can give him back to you. The choice is yours."  
Hermione ran trembling hands through her hair. "Merlin," she whispered, feeling sick to her stomach. "I…I need time," she whispered. "I can't…I can't make this decision right now."

Gertrude nodded. "I understand that," she said. "I'll give you a few days." She placed the paperwork on the table in front of the sofa before she pulled out a card and placed it on top of that. "Contact me with your decision as soon as possible," she said.  
Hermione mutely nodded. Gertrude, recognizing how shocked she was, stood and showed herself out of the apartment. Hermione, still shaking, reached out for the picture on the top of the stack. The boy looked like a toddler version of Harry but with deliberate mistakes. There was no scar and he had Hermione's eyes. Aside from that, however, this little boy looked exactly like his father. Hermione felt tears burn at her eyes and put the picture down before she held her face in her hands and let out a sob. She never thought it would come to this.

* * *

Hermione didn't sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her bed and hoped that the earlier visit had been a nightmare. She wasn't in a position to take care of a child that no one else knew existed. She certainly didn't want to become a single mother in a day. Most people had nine months to prepare for being a parent. They were asking for Hermione's decision as soon as possible.  
She finally gave up before the sun rose. She sat down at her small breakfast table in the kitchen of her flat and looked around. She tried to imagine drawings attached to the refrigerator with cute magnets, toys scattered about the floor, and a tiny little voice calling her "mommy".

That was perhaps the hardest thing for her to imagine.

As she sipped her coffee, she stared at the photograph of the little boy. He looked frightened. He looked as though he didn't know what to expect or what was going to happen to him next. She tried to think of the situation from his point of view. The only parents he had ever known were suddenly dead and he had no other family.

Hermione sighed as she hung her head. Honestly, the decision had been made a long time ago. Hermione still loved Harry with every ounce of her being, but she hadn't been able to stay with him because of the loss of their son. This was her last chance to have a part of Harry with her always, even if it wasn't the man himself.

Hermione set the picture down and picked up the card Gertrude had left behind. She stood to fetch a piece of parchment and a quill. When she sat back down, she wrote one of the shortest letters that she had ever penned.

_Gertrude,_

_After much consideration and thought, I have decided to take Christopher. Please give me a few days to ready the house for his arrival and provide me with a list of items I need to purchase._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione Granger_

Hermione looked over the letter once more before she sealed it and walked over to her owl. The cage and window were already open so that the bird could come and go as it pleased at night, so Hermione reached in to gently wake the bird. As the owl woke up, she shook her feathers and gave Hermione a small hoot before gently nipping Hermione's finger lovingly. Hermione smiled as she removed her hand from the cage and the bird followed.

Hermione attached the letter to her owl's leg. "You're going to deliver this to Gertrude Hopcock," she informed the animal. "She's here in London at the Hidden East Side Adoption Agency," she explained. The bird hooted in acknowledgement before accepting a treat from Hermione. It flew out through the open window and Hermione sighed heavily, knowing that her decision was now sealed in stone.

She felt almost as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The guilt she had felt for so long about giving her son up was suddenly being resolved with his unexpected return. She knew that Christopher wasn't the only one who would be suddenly returning without warning.

She was going to have to make a visit to someone she knew didn't want to see her.


	3. Chapter 2

Twist of Fate

Chapter 2

Harry virtually collapsed into his chair in his office. Work, as always when you're fighting dark wizards, was exhausting. He had spent the last week chasing after a man who thought that it would be okay to try resurrecting the dead for his own amusement. Harry thought it would be a quick mission, but the man had been much smarter than he'd anticipated. He'd also used his reanimated dead puppets as his defense system. Harry knew that this mission was going to leave him with more than a few nightmares.

Missions like these made him grateful they were going to be transferring him soon.

A knock on the door made Harry look up. "Come in," he called out. When the door opened, the last woman he ever expected to see again appeared and Harry didn't know whether to be angry or elated that she was suddenly in his life again.

Hermione closed the door softly behind her and Harry slowly stood. He stared at her in shock and the longing to be with her again washed over him. He wanted to rush to her, hold her in his arms, kiss her, and never let her go. His heart pounded in his chest and he tried to remind himself that she was the one who had walked away from him. She was the one who said that they couldn't be together anymore because she was the one who couldn't cope with the loss of their son even though she had never given Harry the chance to be the one to help her.  
Hermione sighed heavily. "Hi, Harry," she said softly. "I know that you probably never wanted to see me again—"

Harry cut Hermione off by rushing to her and hugging her tightly. He breathed in the smell of jasmines and felt as though he was finally coming home after a very long time away. He had half expected her to push him away, so he was surprised when she held him back and began crying. Harry could tell that she'd been doing a lot of crying recently just by how easily her tears came.

They stood together in his office, simply holding each other for the first time in years. Hermione breathed in the comforting smell that she could only define as Harry and felt protected in the strength of his arms. She felt, once again, that she could do anything as long as he was with her, fighting with her, protecting her.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly tried to stop the flood of tears. She slowly began to let Harry go and let her go only enough to hold her face in his hands and brush away her tears with warm fingers. The look in his eyes was one Hermione never thought she would see again. He looked at her with the same expression on his face as he had the night that they had first made love. Hermione couldn't help herself; she reached up and pulled Harry's face toward her and they kissed for the first time in far too long.

Harry had to remind himself that he was still at work and that he couldn't do the things he wanted to do with her while inside the Auror Department. He slowed their kisses down and eventually pulled away from Hermione. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he whispered.  
Hermione chuckled. "I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome," she confessed. She sighed heavily and ran her hands through her loose hair. "We have to talk," she said. "Something's happened. I don't want to talk here, so can you meet me at my flat after you get off?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "Absolutely," he replied. "Where is it?" he asked.

Hermione walked over to Harry's desk and wrote her address down on a spare bit of parchment she found there. She handed it to him and held his hand for a moment before she kissed him again. "It's very important," she said softly.

"Can you tell me what this is about?" Harry asked.

"The past," Hermione said softly before she left his office. Harry prayed that she wasn't walking out of his life again. He didn't think he could live with losing her twice.

With a sigh, Harry looked around his office before he sat back down at his desk. He looked at the parchment she had written her address on. He knew the area but he'd never been to the building before. Luckily for him, it was part of his job to Apparate to the unknown and arrive in one piece on the first try.

Harry tried his best to get through the day without cutting out early, but when the anxiety and curiosity became too much, he feigned illness and told his boss that he needed to leave. His boss agreed and Harry was given the time off that he needed. He left the Ministry and walked for a while to help calm his nerves. When he felt as though he could face Hermione and whatever it was that she had to tell him, he Apparated to her.

When he knocked on her door, he wondered if she'd given him the wrong address. It was a fleeting fear and vanished the moment she opened the door. She stepped aside and let Harry in only to be enveloped in another of his tight hugs.

"I've missed you so much," Harry whispered in her ear. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"I didn't think you wanted me around," Hermione softly replied.

Harry sighed heavily. "I was waiting for you to find your way back to me," he replied. "I meant what I said when I told you that I want to be with you for the rest of my life," Harry continued. He kissed her softly on her lips and lingered for a moment before he pulled away. Hermione looked up at him and saw the tears in his eyes.

She smiled up at him and felt tears burn at her own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered. "I couldn't face you after we gave him up. I kept thinking that if I could just distance myself from you that I might be able to move on with my own life, but that never happened. No matter what I did, the two of you were always right there, haunting me…."

Harry nodded. "I know," he said softly. "Every time I saw a woman with curly brown hair, especially with a child, I thought of you," he said. "I still have all of the pictures we took and you were always my first and last thought of the day. I haven't even tried to find someone else because the only woman in the world that I love is you."

Hermione let out a sob as she buried her face in Harry's chest. Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. "Harry, I love you so much!" Hermione cried.

A while later, Harry and Hermione sat in the kitchen, each with a cup of tea. "So what is this about?" Harry asked. "I know you didn't show up out of the blue just because you missed me. What happened?"

Hermione sighed heavily. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked. Harry nodded. Hermione reached for the stack of papers on the counter behind her and set them in front of Harry. On the top was the photograph of their son. Harry slowly reached out and picked it up with a shaking hand. Looking up at him was a photo he could have sworn was him as a small child, though there were deliberate differences. For instance, the eyes looking up at him were Hermione's, not his. There was also no scar on the boy's forehead that had to be hidden.

With his mouth hanging slightly open, Harry looked back at Hermione. "This is…" he whispered.

Hermione nodded and sighed heavily. "The couple who adopted him were killed in an accident," she told him. "They have no living relatives and that means that the agency who handled the case needs to find him a new home. They came to me first. They said that they know many couples who choose to give up their children, especially in times of war as we did, regret the decision and wish that there was a way to get the time back. We have an opportunity that so few people ever have. We have the chance to have our son in our lives again."

Harry stared at Hermione for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded. "Let's do it," he said. "Let's take him back and do it right this time."

Hermione smiled at Harry. "I already sent the letter," she said. "I'm waiting for Gertrude's reply."

Harry smiled. "Good," he said. He sighed heavily. "So what does this mean for us?" he asked. "Are we going to do the separated parent thing or are we going to jump into this family with both feet?"

"What do you want to do?" Hermione asked.

Harry laughed. "Marry you today and get our son tomorrow," he replied.

Hermione smiled. "Okay," she said, much to Harry's surprise.

"What?" Harry asked, having not expected Hermione to agree with him so easily.

"Let's go," Hermione said. "We'll head down to the Ministry and we'll get everything taken care of today. Then, tonight, we can celebrate and we can do everything that we need to do."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Okay," he said with a smile. He stood and pulled Hermione up to her feet so that he could kiss her with all of the passion that had been building up in the last few years. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and pressed her body against his. It was a feeling that she had always loved and never tired of. Harry felt himself responding for the first time in a long time and almost felt as though he was waking up from a long dream. He hungrily kissed Hermione and pressed her body against the counter. His hands explored her body as hers re-familiarized themselves with his.

Harry took her in the kitchen. He pressed her against the wall and pushed her skirt up as she pushed his pants down. They both cried out when he entered her once again and didn't move for a moment. Harry kissed her deeply and didn't dare stop because he feared that he was going to wake up and discover it was all a dream.


	4. Chapter 3

**Twist of Fate**

Chapter 3

It wasn't the wedding either of them had ever imagined. Harry and Hermione stood in front of the head of the Wizengamot with two others to act as witnesses. There wasn't much ritual with the ceremony and it ended with a simple kiss. They signed the wedding certificate and Harry took Hermione out for a nice dinner to celebrate the decision.

As they sat with their drinks and waited for their meal, Harry smiled at his new wife. "So how does it feel to be Mrs. Harry Potter?" he asked.

Hermione chuckled. "Like a dream come true," she said softly. She gave him a smile but Harry could see the doubt in her eyes. "You don't think we rushed this, do you?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not at all," he said. "You're still the most important person in my life, Hermione, and I don't want another day to go by where I don't have you in it. I'm serious, Hermione. I can't live without you anymore. The past four and a half years have been a long and lonely hell and I know that I'm being a little selfish, but I really can't bear the thought of you not being there. Now that we have the chance to have our son as well, there isn't another option for me. I love you, I do, and I want to be the one who makes you happy."

"Even if it's not perfect?" Hermione asked with a smile, remembering the words Harry had spoken so many years ago.

Harry nodded as the smile spread across his lips. "Especially if it's not perfect," he replied.

Hermione smiled at him and reached across the table for Harry's hand. "Good," she said softly. She chuckled. "You know it's not going to be perfect, right?" she asked.

Harry laughed as he nodded. "I would be worried if it was," he replied. "So we move into your flat?" he asked. "I don't think Grimmauld Place is the best place for a small child."

Hermione nodded. "That sounds fine to me," she said. "At least for right now. My apartment is going to be very small when there are three of us in it. I also have an office that's going to need to be cleared out. I don't want to put Christopher in there with all of my work. He's liable to get into things."

Harry nodded. "We'll work on that tomorrow then," he said.

Hermione sighed. "There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about," she said.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed again but was interrupted by their waitress arriving with their food. She waited until the woman walked away before she voiced her concern. "With you being an Auror…I know I can't ask you to quit your job, but I don't want to get that call…I don't want to find out that you've been hurt or killed…"

Harry gave Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to worry about it," he said. Hermione gave Harry a questioning look. "They're transferring me to the academy," he explained. "I'm going to be a teacher from here on out. They've decided that my knowledge and expertise are better put to use in teaching others to have that same information rather than being the only one with it. I have to say that I agree with them, and I'm actually looking forward to the change. Especially now."

Hermione smiled at Harry, who kissed the back of her hand before letting it go so that they could eat. "I didn't think you liked teaching," she said with a sly smile.

Harry chuckled. "If I recall correctly, I was rather good at it," he replied. Hermione chuckled along with him before she turned to her meal.

* * *

They woke early the next morning and set to work on clearing the office as soon as they had finished breakfast. By the time they stopped for lunch, they were more than half finished with the project. They entered the kitchen to see that a letter had been dropped onto the table. Hermione sighed heavily as she picked it up and broke the seal.

"It's from Gertrude," she said as she scanned it over. "I asked her for a list of supplies that we would need for Christopher. She says here that the accident was a fire and that virtually everything was destroyed," she said softly, bringing a hand slowly up to cover her mouth. Harry saw the parchment in her hand begin to shake. She cleared her throat. "He was with a sitter," she said. "They wanted a date night and got too drunk. They figure that one of them knocked over a few candles and they were too impaired to react and the whole house went up…. It wasn't until the next morning when the sitter arrived to drop Christopher off that they knew he was still alive…."

Harry walked up to Hermione and held her tightly. "He survived," he said softly before he kissed the side of her head. "He's okay. We can get everything he'll ever need and he won't have to worry about losing his parents ever again."

Hermione nodded and clutched Harry tightly. "I can't lose him again," she whispered.

"We won't," Harry replied.

When the room was cleared, Harry and Hermione began the task of getting the furniture and other supplies they would need for their son's arrival. They purchased a bed, dresser, clothes, and toys. Hermione reasoned that they should wait for the bulk of the things they would need as they had no way of knowing just what size clothes he would need or what toys he actually liked. Agreeing with her, Harry and Hermione focused mostly on the necessities.

When the room was put together and painted the Muggle way, Harry and Hermione stood in the center of it and looked around. The only thing missing was Christopher. The reality of the situation suddenly hit Hermione as she looked around. She felt herself begin to tremble and quickly retreated to the living room where she sat down and held her head in her hands. Harry quickly joined her and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. "What is it?" he softly asked.

"It just suddenly hit me," she replied. "Most people have nine months to prepare for a baby to enter their lives. We have five days to prepare for a child! We don't know anything about him except that he was our biggest mistakes and the reason we fell apart," she said. "What if we can't handle him? What if he hates us? What if he refuses to have anything to do with us because we're not the people he knows as Mom and Dad? We're strangers to him, Harry," she cried, tears falling from her caramel eyes. "What if they take him back? What if they decide that we're horrible parents and that we can't raise him? What's going to happen to us if we lose him again?"

Harry sighed heavily before he kissed his wife's forehead. He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her close, effectively pulling her down from the chair she had been sitting in. She knelt between his legs and buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed in the calming scent that was Harry. "They won't take him away from us," he said softly. "Yes, it's going to be awkward at first and yes, he isn't going to know what to think of us until he gets to know us. The key to making this all work is for us to give it time. We can't give up at the first sign of trouble and we can't give up if he takes a while to warm up to us. He's five years old, Hermione," Harry needlessly reminded her. "He barely knew his other parents to begin with. At his age, this isn't the easiest thing, but it isn't the hardest either."

"I just hope it all works out," Hermione whispered.

"It will," Harry promised before he kissed her softly.


	5. Chapter 4

Twist of Fate

Chapter 4

The next morning, Harry watched as Hermione nervously paced between the living room and kitchen. She polished, dusted, and picked up every little speck of dust while they waited for Gertrude Hopcok to arrive with Christopher. When the knock finally sounded precisely at ten, just as agreed, Hermione jumped and gave Harry a terrified look.

Harry walked up to Hermione and kissed her, hoping to calm her nerves while praying his own didn't show through. She took in a deep breath and nodded at him. Harry moved to the door and gripped the handle tightly. He heaved a nervous sigh before he twisted the knob and opened the door.

Harry and Gertrude hadn't met yet, but she had known through correspondence with Hermione that he would be there. She also knew that the two of them had married recently in order to be a joint part of the child's life, which she approved of because she felt that it would have been too traumatic for both Hermione and Christopher if it were to be just the two of them.

Gertrude stepped into the flat and looked around before she motioned for another person to enter. It was a young teenage girl carrying Christopher. Both looked equally frightened and both Harry and Hermione wondered if there was something they hadn't been told.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter, meet Christopher and Anna," she said. "Anna is the young woman who was caring for Christopher when the fire took his adoptive parents."

"Hello," Hermione said, shaking Anna's hand. Anna also shook Harry's hand with a strained smile and nod as Hermione knelt in front of Christopher. "Hi, Christopher," she said. She held out her hand to him. "My name is Hermione."

Anna nudged the boy she once watched diligently. "It's okay, Chris, you can say hi." She knelt down with the boy and guided his hand to Hermione's. The three of them shared a handshake and Hermione felt like crying but she knew she needed to stay strong. "Do you like to be called Chris then?" she asked. The boy nodded. Hermione gave him a smile. "Well, Chris, if you like we have a room set up here for you with some toys. Later, we can go get others if you like."

Christopher smiled. Hermione looked up at Gertrude. "Is it alright if I show him his room?" she asked.

Gertrude nodded. "I'll need to see it as well."

Hermione stood. "Not knowing very much about him, we've put off getting too many things before his arrival. We decided that for things such as clothing and the majority of the toys, we could wait until he could be there to pick things out. We didn't want to get things for him that he wouldn't like or couldn't wear."

Gertrude nodded. "A wise idea," she agreed. "After you, Mrs. Potter," she said. Hermione smiled at the name before she led Gertrude, Anna, and Christopher to the boy's new bedroom. Harry stood back in the living room and stared after the young child in shock.

The door to Christopher's room was already open in preparation for the day. Hermione stood to the side so that the others could walk in first. Anna and Christopher were the first two in the room and Anna immediately began pointing out the many toys to the boy. They began playing as Gertrude looked around and Hermione nervously waited to hear what she had done wrong.

"What color was the room before you painted it?" she asked.

"It was natural wood paneling, but it was rather dark. I had used this room as an office, but we easily converted it back to a bedroom. The office is now part of our bedroom."

Gertrude smiled at Hermione. "If I were you, I would consider getting a larger home," she said. "Mixing business with pleasure never really goes well."

Hermione chuckled. "We wanted to wait until Christopher was settled," she said.

Gertrude nodded again. "Another wise idea," she said with a note of sadness in her voice. "Come," she said, "let's let them be for a little while. There are some things I need to tell you."

Concerned, Hermione followed Gertrude back to the living room. Harry still stood there and smiled when the two of them came back. Gertrude motioned for the two of them to sit down. Following her lead, they did.

"Christopher is in need of a lot of care," Gertrude began. "He is suffering night terrors, is deathly afraid of fire right now, and, of course, he is grieving. The only thing he knows from his old life right now is Anna. She has been able to keep him relatively calm, but when she leaves tonight, you are going to see a different side of Christopher. He is going to start screaming and crying and not much that you can do will be able to console him. We've done what we can to calm him, but so far Anna has been the only one to truly bring him back to a normal state.

"Now, clearly, we cannot ask you to have Anna move in here with him. That would not be solving the problem-it would only be placing a bandage over a wound. It stops the symptoms, but it doesn't heal the damage. Anna would like to be the one whom you call in the event that you need a sitter. She has also asked me to ask you if it would be alright if she continues to see Christopher in the future. She is very attached to the boy and wants to continue to be a part of his life."

Harry and Hermione both nodded. "We don't see a problem with that," Hermione replied. She sighed heavily. "So we're looking at a really rough night then?" she asked.

Gertrude nodded. "Yes," she replied.

* * *

'A rough night' turned out to be an understatement. The moment Christopher realized that he was staying behind and Anna wasn't, the tantrum began. He started screaming, crying, and clinging to Anna.

After trying unsuccessfully for nearly ten minutes to get Christopher to release Anna, Hermione was struck with an idea. "Anna, do you want to stay a little longer?" she asked. "Maybe Chris will calm down if he knows you're going to stay for a while?" she asked.

Anna sighed and looked at Gertrude and Christopher. Her attention then moved to the fireplace before looking at Hermione again. "I can stay until he falls asleep as long as it's okay with...you know, everything." She looked at Gertrude. "Is it okay if I stay?"

Gertrude nodded. "At this point, we'll monitor things for a while. I'll be back twice per week for a month or so and then it'll taper it down to once per week for another month. Then, every two weeks for two months, once per month for the next six. After that, we'll do one last evaluation at the year mark and then we should be done. As for you being a part of Christopher's life, at this point it is in the hands of Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

Anna nodded before looking back at Hermione and Harry. "I'll stay until he falls asleep if that's alright?" she asked.

Hermione and Harry both nodded. Anna looked at Christopher and told him that she would be staying, which calmed Christopher down immediately.


	6. Chapter 5

Twist of Fate

Chapter 5

The next morning, Christopher woke up in his new bedroom. He looked around and saw the sea green walls, the scattered toys that he and Anna had played with the night before, and the curtains with Golden Snitches, and he wondered what they were like. Christopher had known for a couple of years that his parents weren't actually his parents. They had informed him that his parents couldn't keep him when he was born and they had been blessed with the opportunity to raise him. He had been told that these people were the ones who had been given no choice but to let him go. These people, he had been told, were his birth parents.

Reluctantly, Christopher got out of bed. He had a feeling that Anna wasn't there anymore because he had heard her say that she would stay until he went to sleep. Christopher had tried to stay awake as long as he could because he didn't know when he would ever see her again, but he hadn't been able to keep his eyes open.

He could hear them talking as he slowly made his way down the hall. He could also hear the bacon sizzling on the stove and smell the scents of breakfast that made his stomach rumble. He followed his nose to the kitchen where he saw them talking over cups of coffee.

The man was at the stove. Christopher thought that was odd because in his old home, his mother had always done the cooking. His father had been the one who usually sat at the counter talking to her on lazy mornings. For a moment, Christopher stared at them. He didn't understand why the woman wasn't cooking.

"Good morning, Chris," the woman said. She smiled at him and he simply stared at her. He hadn't interacted much with these people, so he really didn't know what to think of them yet.

They had seemed nice enough at dinner, but Anna had still been here at dinner. What if they weren't going to be as nice now that she was gone? Anna had told him that if they were like that at all to send her an owl and she would come for him.

The problem with that was that Christopher didn't know how to write yet.

"Morning," he mumbled to the woman who he supposed was his real mother.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "Come in and sit down, Chris. Would you like something to drink? We have milk, orange juice, pumpkin juice, and apple juice."

Christopher's favorite drink in the world was milk. "Can I have some milk?" he asked.

She beamed at him. "Of course you can," she said. "Come here, let's get you settled in and then it'll be time to eat, okay?" she asked. Christopher nodded as he walked up to her. She helped him into the taller than usual chair before she pulled a cup down from the cupboard. Christopher noticed it looked brand new so he wondered if they had gotten the cups just for him.

She took the cup to the refrigerator and poured him milk from the carton inside. She brought it to him and set it down on the table just as the man, Christopher's father if the stories were true, brought him a small plate of food.

"You might not be very hungry, but eat as much as you can, alright?" he asked. Christopher nodded before he turned back and grabbed two more adult plates. He handed one to her and kept the second for himself. They sat down on either side of him and began to eat.

"Why did you cook?" Christopher asked. He really wanted the answer to that question.

They simply looked at him for a moment. "In your home, your mum did most of the cooking?" the man asked.

Christopher nodded.

"We like to take turns cooking here," the woman said. "That way, neither one of us feels like we're the ones doing all of the work. We also take turns cleaning the apartment and doing other things that many families find to be more gender oriented duties."

Christopher slowly nodded. For being five years old, he was a very smart boy. His parents had often been amazed at how smart he was. He understood that they were dead and that that meant that he would never see them again, but he didn't understand why.

"Why can't I see my mum and dad?" he asked.

He saw the pain on their faces and regretted the question in an instant.

The man sighed. "Because they were in an accident and they passed away," he replied. "When a person dies, unless they become a ghost, there is no way for them to be seen again. They are still with you, Chris," he said. "You can still talk to them any time you want to, but it's going to be very hard to hear them reply to you. If you close your eyes and you're very quiet, you might hear them."

"I can't see them, but I can hear them?" he asked. That didn't make sense to Christopher. How could he hear something but not see it?

"It's not an actual _sound_," the woman explained. "It's more of a feeling. You know that feeling you had when your mum hugged you?" she asked. Christopher nodded. "When you think of her, you can still feel that."

Christopher shook his head. He didn't understand what they were telling him. He was much more an analytical person than one who thought outside of the box. If he couldn't observe or explore it with the five physical senses, he didn't understand it.

Instead of trying to figure out what they were talking about, Christopher turned his attention to his breakfast. It looked and smelled delicious. After he sampled a bit of everything, he decided that it tasted that way as well.

* * *

He observed them the rest of the day. They washed the dishes together, another thing that Christopher had never seen his own parents do. He noticed how they also went out of their way to touch each other. His parents had never done that either. They kissed at every opportunity. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his parents do something like that. Of course, they were never _mean_ to each other, but Christopher had often heard them yelling at each other down stairs when he was supposed to be asleep at night. He hadn't told anyone about that because he wanted to believe the story that they had come up with. He liked the idea that his parents were having a good time being with each other when they died. It made him hope that they were trying to fix things between them.

These two, however, didn't even snap at the other once. They were completely comfortable with each other and they obviously loved each other. If Christopher had come from something like that, why had they given him up in the first place?

As they were sitting down in the living room, he decided to ask them. The day had turned to night and he was trying to become comfortable in this place. He cleared his throat and they looked up at him. Hermione put her book aside and Harry put down the papers he was going over.

"What is it, Chris?" he asked.

"You two are my birth parents right?" he asked. They nodded. "So that means that you're the ones I was supposed to be with since the beginning, right?" They nodded again. "Why did you give me up then?" he asked.

Hermione sighed heavily. "Come here," she said. Christopher obliged and she pulled him up into her lap. "A very long time ago, before you were born, an evil wizard had declared war on the good witches and wizards of England. He wanted to eradicate, or kill, all of the Muggleborn witches and wizards and he wanted to enslave all of the Muggles. He tried very hard to do this. One day, he heard a prophecy and he decided that he would stop it from happening. He killed a couple and tried to kill their son, but the curse rebounded. It ended up destroying him, but it didn't kill him completely because he had done things to keep himself from ever truly dying.

"The little boy survived, but he had a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt."

Christopher's eyes immediately went to Harry's forehead. He saw the scar there. His eyes widened as he looked back at Hermione. "What happened next?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "Thirteen years of peace," she replied. "Then, he had someone help him lure that same boy to a graveyard where he somehow came back. The boy knew then that there was going to be another war and that he was going to do everything he could to stop it from destroying the world. He made it back to Hogwarts and gave warning.

"The war started from almost the same place it left off another year later. From that point forward, all anyone could think of was how to stop it from getting worse. How could the war be stopped?"

"Everyone turned to me," Harry said, picking up the story. "They all believed that I was the Chosen One. They were right. Voldemort had chosen me to be the other half of the prophecy, but what they hadn't realized was that you didn't have to be chosen to kill him.

"We figured out how to kill him," Harry continued. "He had housed his soul in different objects and we went in search of those objects. Ron, a friend of ours, had been dating Hermione, and he had left us in the middle of our search because he didn't think we were getting anywhere quickly enough. It was in the year that he was gone that we had you. No one knew. We haven't actually told anyone about you," he confessed. "We figured it was better that way..."

Christopher stared at them for a moment. "How are you going to explain me now?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around the boy. "We're going to tell them all the truth," she said.


	7. Chapter 6

Twist of Fate

Chapter 6

They weren't bad as far as parents went. Christopher really only had one other couple to compare them to. Hermione read to him daily and had even begun teaching him how to write. He ate very well and enjoyed most of the food. Harry would take him out to the park in the evenings, where they would play catch or tag or whatever else fathers liked to do with sons. Anna visited them and as the days went by, it became easier for her to leave without upsetting Christopher.

Gertrude's first visit seemed to surprise her. She saw that they were functioning almost like a family. Christopher displayed his ability to write the alphabet and even read simple words. Hermione remarked that he was learning everything as fast as she could teach him and that she wouldn't be surprised if he had taken on her learning ability. Harry played with him while Gertrude was there and she smiled at seeing them interact.

Hermione was amazed at how well the pieces fell into place. She and Harry felt like one cohesive unit running the household than two separate people. Hermione became a work-from-home mother, which was easy given that she spent most of her time proofreading books and doing research for the various authors in the publishing company she worked for. It was something that she didn't need to be in the office for. In addition, Harry's new position in the Auror Academy was going so well that it was as if nothing could bring them down.

But that was before Christopher's nightmares began.

It was the middle of the night. The house was quiet except for Crookshanks and the owls. Harry and Hermione were sleeping peacefully in their bed and Christopher tossed and turned in his. Then, suddenly, a scream pierced through the air.

Harry and Hermione woke instantly and they both reached for their wands. They went racing down the hall to Christopher's room and found him sitting in his bed, drenched in a cold sweat, and white as a sheet. Harry turned on the light, half expecting to find someone in the room with their son. The boy was alone and Hermione rushed to the bed. She wrapped Christopher in her arms and rocked him gently back and forth.

"It's okay," she whispered, smoothing his damp hair back. "You're okay."

Christopher sobbed into her shoulder. Harry put his wand down and walked toward the two most important people in his life and knelt down on the floor beside them. He reached up and also ran his hands through Christopher's hair. "What happened?" he softly asked.

"I saw them die," Christopher cried. "I saw what happened."

Harry and Hermione exchanged worried glances. "What do you mean?" Hermione gently asked. "You dreamed about them?"

"The fire," Christopher said. Hermione and Harry exchanged shocked looks this time. No one had told Christopher that the couple who had raised him thus far had died in a fire. "I saw the fire," he continued. "It was started by someone looking for me."

"Why were they looking for you, sweetheart?" Hermione asked.

Christopher looked at Harry. "Because they know I'm your son," he said.

Harry felt his blood turn to ice. "Did you see who it was?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Christopher shook his head. "All I could see were black eyes. They were mad because I wasn't in the house."

Harry felt himself start to shake. He slowly stood and left the boy's bedroom to think about what he'd said. Harry knew, more than most ever could, what those dreams were like. He believed Christopher's dream because he had been there. He had dreamed about things that couldn't have possibly been known. He dreamed about so many things regarding Voldemort that it made so much sense when he realized what he had been in those final days of the war. What if there were lasting consequences? He had fathered Christopher while he was still a horcrux. Maybe, just maybe, that had given Christopher a connection?

He thought about the memories he had seen of Tom Riddle. The man had dark eyes. Then again, so had Snape. Of course, he now knew that Snape had truly been Dumbledore's man, but that didn't stop him from wondering.

Who had known about the boy? They still hadn't come public with the information. One of the reasons they had done most of their shopping in the Muggle world was to prevent people from asking questions before they were ready to give answers.

Harry wanted to believe that Christopher's dream was just that-a dream, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was something more.

Hermione came out of Christopher's bedroom nearly a half an hour later. She sighed as she walked up to Harry, seeking comfort in her husband's embrace. "I've never seen anyone so frightened," she said softly.

"I think he may have actually seen something," Harry confessed.

Hermione sighed as she pulled away and met Harry's eyes in the darkness of their living room. "You mean like when you could see things that Voldemort did?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I think so," he replied. "I think that whoever it is that Chris dreamed about, it was real and we need to find out who it is before he or she attacks us again. If this person with black eyes was willing to kill Chris's adoptive parents because he wasn't there, what else would they do?"

Hermione sighed heavily. "What are we going to do, Harry?" she asked. "We're not soldiers anymore..."

"We never were," Harry replied. "But that doesn't mean that we can't stand up and fight. If it wasn't an accident, we can't let the person who killed the people who took care of our son for five years get away with it."

Hermione nodded. "You're right," she said. She sighed heavily. "You're absolutely right..."

* * *

The next day, Harry went to work with one intent: To investigate the fire that had taken the lives of Christopher's adoptive parents. He may have been a teacher at that point, but one of the requirements of maintaining his status as an Auror was to keep up on the cases and other things that may have some element of Dark Magic associated with it. His class wasn't scheduled to arrive until noon, so Harry used the morning to find out any information that he possibly could.

He called for the reports surrounding the fire. They were delivered to him nearly an hour later, which was to be expected. Since defeating Voldemort, Harry had learned that pretty much anyone would do what they could for him as to stay on his good side. It seemed that no one wanted the Boy Who Lived to be an enemy.

As he read and reread the reports, Harry couldn't find anything that would even suggest that a third person would be in the house. The bodies of Kent and Melissa Browning were found in the living room with the remains of a wine bottle and two glasses. Spells had revealed that they had been dressed nicely as though on a fancy date, and that they had been enjoying themselves. They hadn't noticed the fire once, which was what raised Harry's suspicions. Though they were likely inebriated, there wasn't enough wine in the world to keep a person from realizing that there was a fire and at least _trying_ to put it out. Yet Mr. and Mrs. Browning had been found in the living room, leaning against the sofa, with absolutely no signs of attempting to put out the blaze.

Their deaths had been ruled accidental, but something about it left a nasty taste on the back of Harry's throat. He knew, just _knew_, that there had been dark magic involved in the fire. It couldn't be an accident.

The first time Harry called on Anna, he didn't think it would be to question her. He thought that the first time he called her, it would be to have her watch Christopher while he and Hermione went out to dinner or something much more normal than this. However, when Anna came into his office the next morning, looking frightened and concerned, Harry knew that there was not ever going to be a 'normal' reason for him to call Anna.

She looked thinner than she had the last time he had seen her. Her hair hung around her face, lifeless and dull. Her dark eyes seemed to be empty pits and Harry wondered if someone was pulling her puppet strings.

"How is Chris?" she asked him.

Harry nodded. "He's doing well," he replied. "He's adjusting quite nicely."

"So why am I here?" Anna asked.

Harry sighed. "He's been having nightmares," he replied. "I was wondering if you knew something that might help him so that he doesn't have them anymore?"

Anna shook her head. "His parents sometimes gave him tea to calm him, but he never cared for it. He didn't normally have nightmares though."

"Has Christopher ever seen things before?" he asked. "Things he couldn't possibly know?"

Anna shook her head again. "Not that I know of," she replied.

Harry nodded. "Who was at the house that night?" he asked. "Was it just Chris's adoptive parents?"

Anna nodded. "Yes," she replied. "They were having some problems, marital, and they wanted a night where they didn't have to worry about waking Chris so that they could work on those problems. They didn't want him to worry. Chris was always afraid of losing his parents. He was afraid that no one would want him if something happened to them. Instead of getting a divorce, they wanted to try to make it work for Chris's sake. "

"Were either of them seeing someone else?" Harry asked. "How many people knew that Christopher was adopted?"

"No one knew that he was adopted," Anna replied. "They didn't want anyone to know that. Chris didn't even know until Gertrude came to pick him up. I was there when he was told."

"Have you ever seen anyone following Chris around?" Harry asked. "Someone trying hard to be inconspicuous or stay close to shadows?"

Anna was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "No," she replied. "No one." Harry remembered his childhood when he had looked at Dumbledore with that same look in his eyes. He remembered his tone when he told the old headmaster that he hadn't anything else to say. He could practically taste Anna's lie.

"You can go now, Anna," he said. "Thank you for stopping by.


	8. Chapter 7

Twist of Fate

Chapter 7

Harry sifted through the remains of the house. Charred remains were everywhere. The only pristine pieces where where the Brownings had rested as their bodies had burned. Harry couldn't imagine how a couple trying to keep their relationship alive for a young child would simply lay there and allow themselves to burn to death. Of course, they likely died of smoke inhalation before the flames ever touched them, but he simply couldn't imagine anyone not reacting to a fire.

Harry sighed and held out his wand. A bright white ball of light shot out of his wand and exploded. Everything the tiny lights touched showed Harry a glimpse of what used to be. He saw the entire living room the way it had once looked. He held out his wand again and around him, the scene came to life. He watched them walk into the living room with the bottle of wine and glasses. They sat down on the living room floor, smiling brightly. She was wearing a simple deep red cocktail dress and he was wearing a nice suit. There were no candles nearby. The fireplace was cold.

He could see them talking to each other, but he couldn't hear their words. Then, suddenly, behind them he saw a cloaked and hooded figure walk into the house. Before either of them could react, Harry saw the figure cast spells on them, immobilizing them. The figure disappeared up the stairs for a few minutes before coming back down. The figure left the house and a little while later, smoke filled the room.

Despite their smiling faces, Harry could see the terror in their eyes. The only comfort they had was that they were embracing each other. Harry watched the house burn from the top to the bottom. He watched them slowly die a cruel death.

With tears in his eyes, Harry left remains of the home behind. He walked slowly without a care to which direction he was going. The sun set while he was walking and it wasn't until night that he found his way home.

Hermione had been growing steadily more and more worried as the hours ticked by. She knew that harry was simply teaching now, so to have him not come home when he was scheduled to worried her. Yes, Voldemort had been destroyed, and yes, there was no more war, but that didn't stop the dark wizards from coming after Harry anyway. As the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter was _always_ a target.

Christopher noticed Hermione's anxiety. He watched her clean the same things repeatedly. Christopher looked up from the book he was reading. "Where is Harry?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Chris," she replied, just before the door opened and Harry walked in. Hermione rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. "Where have you been?" she asked softly.

Harry smiled at her. "I'll tell you later," he said. He kissed her cheek before he walked toward Christopher. He sat down on the sofa next to the young boy and picked up the book he'd been reading. "You're just like your mother, did you know that?" he asked with a smile. Christopher shook his head as Harry ruffled his black hair. "She's always reading everything she can get her hands on. When we met on the train to Hogwarts, she was already citing passages from _Hogwarts; A History_. She was the brightest witch of our age. She probably still is. I can bet that you're going to be just as smart as she is."

Hermione smiled as Christopher looked from Harry to her. She nodded and Christopher looked back at Harry. "What about you?" he asked.

Harry laughed. "I'm sure if I actually applied myself a bit more, I would have been a better student, but I got by. I did well in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I was average in most of the other subjects."

"Don't listen to him, Chris," Hermione said with a smile. "He was a very good student."

Harry chuckled before he looked at Christopher again. "Why don't you go to bed, eh?" he asked. "It's getting late." Chris nodded before he stood up off of the couch. Harry caught him by the arm and pulled him back before he could get too far and pulled him into a hug. "I love you, Son," he said before letting Christopher go. The young boy smiled at him before giving Hermione a hug and going to his room.

As usual, he left the door cracked. Harry looked up at Hermione before he sighed heavily and went into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of juice before stepping out onto the patio. He sighed as he looked out over London and wondered how Hermione was going to react to the news.

Hermione followed him, as he had known she would. He didn't wait for her to ask where he'd been. "I went to their house today," he said. "I saw what was left of it. I found out exactly what had happened. I don't know why they ruled it an accident. Standard protocol for investigating any death is to use certain spells to find out what happened. I used those spells and I saw exactly what happened. Christopher's dream...it's true."

"What do you mean, it's true?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "Christopher said that there was a person with black eyes that killed them. He was right. They had been sitting in the living room with the wine and they had been enjoying their night together. The person walked in and immobilized them while they searched the house. When they didn't find anything, they left, but the fire was started on the second floor while his adoptive parents were immobilized. They couldn't fight back. They couldn't do anything. They were..." Harry sighed. "They were absolutely terrified," he said, looking at his wife. "They never knew what was happening and they couldn't even really comfort each other. I saw the terror in their eyes," he said. "I've never seen anyone that afraid."

"So what are you going to do now?" Hermione softly asked.

"I have to find out who that person was," Harry replied. "I'm going to get everything that I can on them and then I'm going to go out, find their killer, and I'm going to bring him or her in. Whoever did this deserves to rot in Azkaban for the rest of their miserable life."

Hermione sighed heavily. "Harry...you're not an Auror anymore," she said. "Shouldn't you let someone else take the case?"

"Hermione, there isn't even a case," Harry reminded her. "They ruled it an accident. No one is going to be looking in to any of it. The only reason anyone knows that I'm looking in to it is because I requested the case files. I can't hand this one off. The only thing I know is that this person needs to be brought to justice and I'm the only that can do that because I'm the only one who knows that they're out there." Harry held Hermione close for a moment. "I know you worry about it," he said. "I know you're scared that I'll get hurt, but I have to do this," he said. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Hermione sighed and leaned into her husband. "You'd better be," she replied.

Harry chuckled. "If Voldemort couldn't do me in, what makes you think anyone else can?" he asked.

Hermione pulled away and stared at Harry for a moment. "Harry, Voldemort _did_ kill you," she said. "You just didn't stay dead. And as for anyone else that comes along, Harry, they only have to get lucky once. One lucky shot and you're gone and I really can't lose you again."

Harry nodded. "I know," he said. "You're not going to lose me. I have no intention of going anywhere."

Hermione sighed as she closed her eyes and sought comfort in Harry's arms.

Christopher looked at his open bedroom window and felt fear flood him. His nightmare about his parents death had just been proven truth. He didn't understand how that was possible, but after what he had dreamed, he suddenly feared for the life of his new father. He wondered if there was someone out there who could grant wishes. Maybe, if he wished hard enough, they would keep Harry from getting hurt. Christopher liked these people and he didn't want to see them suffer the same fate his parents had suffered. He wanted the happily ever after that a lot of the storybooks promised. How could he have that if his father died in the quest to bring his other parents' killer to justice?

Hoping that he would have the nightmare again, Christopher clenched his eyes shut and pulled his blanket over his head. "Bunnies," he whispered to himself. "Bunnies. Bunnies. I will not dream of bunnies. I will not dream of bunnies." It was a trick his old mother had taught him. It usually worked.


	9. Chapter 8

Twist of Fate

Chapter 8

The next morning, Christopher came out of his bedroom to find that Hermione was making breakfast and Harry was no where to be seen. He grabbed his stool and dragged it over to the counter so that he could grab his cup and take it to the table. He then opened the refrigerator and got the milk off of the bottom shelf. He took it to the table and carefully poured it into his cup, as Hermione had taught him to do. They always kept the emptier cartons on the bottom shelf so that Christopher could get his own without spilling it.

After he put the milk back in the fridge, he took a drink. "Where's Harry?" he asked.

"He went to work early today," Hermione replied. Christopher could hear tension in her voice. "He'll likely be home late again as well."

"Why?" Christopher asked. "Is it because of my dream?"

Hermione stopped flipping the bacon on the stove and looked at her son. "What makes you say that?" she asked.

"I heard him talking on the balcony last night," he said. He had always been taught that truth was better than a lie, no matter how small the lie was. "He said that my nightmare was right and that's what really happened to my other parents. Is that true?"

Hermione sighed heavily before she turned the heat off of the stove. She walked over to the table where Christopher sat and took the seat next to him. "How much did you hear?" she asked.

"All of it," Christopher replied.

Hermione ran her fingers through her hair. "Chris, I want you to listen to me carefully, understand?" she asked. Christopher nodded. "Whoever it was that did this to your other mum and dad is a bad person. Harry has spent his entire life searching for and bringing bad people to justice. It started with Voldemort, but it didn't end there. You are our son and we want to make sure that you're kept safe. You're not going to be bouncing around from one home to the next because we are going to make sure that you stay with us until you're an adult and you're ready to leave. Not one moment before, do you understand?" Christopher nodded. "Good," Hermione said with a smile. She ruffled Christopher's hair before she kissed his forehead. "Now, trust that when Harry says he's going to bring in the person who hurt your parents, believe that he's going to do just that. You deserve closure for what happened and he's the one who can give it to you.

"Now," Hermione said as she stood, "how about some breakfast?"

Christopher smiled as he nodded. Hermione chuckled as she walked back to the stove and dished up their plates.

"Mum?" Christopher asked. Hermione froze. It was the fist time he'd called her that. Slowly she turned around and looked at him. "Thank you," Christopher said before he stood up and walked over to her. He gave her a hug around her thighs.

Hermione knelt down in front of her son and stared into eyes that were a reflection of her own. "For what, poppet?" she asked.

Christopher smiled. "For being my real mum," he said. "I wish that you could have kept me when I was a baby, but I think I understand why you didn't."

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "We did it to keep you safe," she said. "We needed you to be safe so that we could focus on the war. We never dreamed that we'd see you again, but we are grateful for the chance. The circumstances could have been better though," she said. Christopher nodded as Hermione stood. "Now go sit down," she instructed. She watched him go back to the table before she picked up the plates and followed him.

* * *

Harry spent the morning questioning the neighbors. He found it ironic that they had lived in Godric's Hollow. It seemed that the small town was a curse to all Potters. First his parents had been murdered by Voldemort, and no his son's adoptive parents had been murdered by someone he couldn't identify.

The neighbors seemed to be no more helpful than Anna had been. They all said that the Brownings had kept mostly to themselves, but that their young boy didn't look like he could have been theirs. No one really knew whether or not the boy had survived the blaze that had taken his parents' lives. Most of those who lived near the house hadn't even noticed the fire until it was too late. At that point, many of them had rushed out to help extinguish the flames, but the damage had already been done. The Brownings were dead and no one could really understand why.

There was one couple who seemed to know the Brownings better than anyone else. Harry spent the most time talking with them.

They were Lavender and Seamus Finnegan. They were surprised to see Harry on their doorstep that morning, but were more than happy to talk with him about the Brownings. They invited Harry in and sat him down for tea.

"We were probably the only people in town who knew that Christopher was adopted," Lavender said. "We've known them since they moved up here about three years ago. They were a very happy couple at that point, but he was always at work and she was resentful of it. She threatened to leave him and take Christopher and make sure that he never saw either one of them again. Personally, I think she was sleeping with someone else, but she would never tell me."

"They really did try to work it out though," Seamus continued. "I haven't seen two people try so hard to make it work since my parents did. They didn't want Christopher to lose another parent. He didn't know he was adopted, but they could tell that he often wondered about it by the way he would just stop and stare at them as if he was trying to figure out which parts of him came from which one of them. We honestly don't even know what happened to him."

"He's with Hermione and I," Harry informed them. They stared at him, clearly confused by the situation. Harry sighed and cleared his throat. "Christopher...he's actually our son," he admitted. Their eyes widened with surprise and Lavender's jaw literally dropped.

"No way!" she cried.

Harry chuckled as he nodded. "It was while we had disappeared," he said. "We made one mistake and we realized that, for the sake of both him and the war, we were going to have to make some sacrifices. We figured the best thing to do would be to give Christopher up so that he could be safe rather than let him become something they could get their hands on to use against me."

"I knew he looked like you!" Lavender triumphantly cried. "You can ask Seamus. I kept saying that he looked like you, but no one would listen to me."

Harry chuckled. "Well, it was a closed adoption, so our names weren't even accessible to him."

"How is he?" Seamus asked.

Harry nodded. "He's doing well," he replied. "It's taking him some time, but he's warming up to Hermione and I. He knows that he was adopted now and that we're his birth parents. He misses them, of course, but he inherited Hermione's intelligence, so he understands better than most children his age what happened."

"He is a brilliant child," Lavender softly agreed. Harry and Seamus both nodded in agreement.

Harry sighed. "Be honest with me," he said to them. They both nodded. "Is there _anyone_ who would have wanted to hurt the Brownings?" he asked. "Anyone that may have wanted to hurt Chris?"

They both shook their heads. "No," Lavender replied. She looked at Seamus for confirmation. He shook his head again before Lavender looked back at Harry. "No," she said again. "They kept to themselves mostly, but they were relatively well-liked."

Harry sighed. "Thanks," he said. He ran his hands through his hair before he stood. "I've got to be going, but thank you for taking the time to speak with me," he said.

Lavender and Seamus both stood and walked with Harry to the door. As Harry began to step through it, Lavender seemed to think of something. "Harry," she said. He turned and looked back at her. "Check into an event that happened before they moved here," she said. "One of the reasons they moved was because she kept seeing someone stalking the house and it was scaring her. She said that she made a few reports about it but she was always brushed off."

Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said. "I'll look into it."

Lavender nodded. "Good luck, Harry," she said.


	10. Chapter 9

Twist of Fate

Chapter 9

It was the third day in a row that Harry had come home late. He was still trying to find some clue that could point him in the direction of the black-eyed person that Christopher had seen in his dream. There seemed to be no avenue that he could look into that gave him a clear direction. Even Lavender's suggestion turned up no answers.

Hermione was waiting up for him when he walked through the door. He was surprised to see her still awake. Normally, he knew, she was in bed by this hour so that she could keep up with Christopher's energy. When Harry saw the stoic look on her face, he knew he was in trouble.

"I thought you'd be asleep," he said as he began taking off his cloak and tie. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and waited for her to say something as he emptied his pockets on the table next to the door.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Not that I don't appreciate what you're doing for Christopher, but it would be nice if you would come home and spend time with your family," she said. Harry felt a stab of guilt. "Harry, it's been less than two months since we've all been back in each others' lives. Can we please be a family before you have to save the world again?"

Harry sighed and walked up to his wife. He pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry," he said softly. He rest his forehead against hers. "It seems that no matter what I look into or where I turn, I'm coming up empty. I know this person is real, but I can't figure out who it is..."

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "Take a break from the search," she said. "Please. We need you here too, Harry," she reminded him. "You have a son who wants to know you and you're making yourself inaccessible. Is that what you want?" she asked.

Harry sighed. "No," he replied. "Of course it's not."

"Then you need to fix it, and I don't mean by spending every waking out in the Auror offices trying to figure out who killed his adopted parents. Be _here_, Harry," she said. "Or don't be here at all."

Harry backed up a step and stared at her. "You can't be serious," he hissed. "You're actually going to threaten to leave me after only two _months_?" He stared at her for a moment before continuing. "Merlin, Hermione, do you even love me at all?"

"I do love you, Harry," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "You are the world to me. But I can't have you be a fleeting part of Chris's life. He needs stability, Harry, and if that means that I take him and leave so that he can have it, I'll do that. That child has always meant more to me than even my own life. I would give that up in a heartbeat if it would keep him safe. You mean more to me than my own life too, Harry, but I would still walk away from you to keep him healthy and secure. I asked you to stop being an Auror because I didn't want to get that call, but I also asked you to stop being an Auror because the hours were too chaotic to have any form of stability. We need to keep our lives structured right now Harry. In a couple of months, you can go hunting down every black-eyed wizard in Britain. But right now, I need you to be _home_."

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said. After all, his family meant more to him than his life. Obviously that meant that the search for whoever killed the Brownings could wait. It wasn't like the Brownings were going anywhere after all. "I'll give it a rest."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I'm sorry I said what I did, but I needed you to realize how serious I am about this. The last thing I want is to lose you, Harry, and I don't like that you're chasing a shadow that can't be found. I don't like the thought of what will happen when you do find it."

Harry nodded as he sighed. "I know," he said. He sat down on the sofa and rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. "I just don't like the thought that there's someone out there getting away with murder. I like even less that they went upstairs first to look for something. I don't even know what that something is and I can't shake the feeling that it's Chris they were after." He looked up and met Hermione's eyes. "The thought of losing either one of you again terrifies me," he confessed. "The thought comes along and I can't breathe."

Hermione sighed and moved to the sofa. She straddled Harry's lap and kissed him deeply. "You're not going to lose us," she whispered before she kissed him again.

Harry welcomed the kiss and felt almost like he could really breathe for the first time in a long time. He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer as his body responded to her touch.

Hermione reached between them and caressed Harry though his pants. "Let's take this conversation to the bedroom, shall we?" she whispered in his ear. Harry was more than willing to follow her lead. He stood with her legs wrapped around his waist and carried her back to their bedroom. He shut the door with his heel and toppled both of them on the bed.

Hermione kissed Harry as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside. He pulled her shirt up over her head and was pleased to see that she'd gone without a bra that evening. So pleased, in fact, that he took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked gratefully, causing Hermione's back to arch and a moan to escape her throat.

As he kissed her again, she began unbuckling his pants and pushing them down passed his hips. Harry had to stop to help her and as he kicked off his pants, she slipped out of her sleeping shorts.

Harry smiled at his naked wife and laid her down on their bed. He rose up between her legs and kissed her as he placed himself at her opening. Slowly, he pushed inside of her. So slowly, in fact, that Hermione found it difficult not to raise her hips and force him inside of her quickly.

Harry saw the desire in her eyes and quickly thrust the rest of the way. Hermione gasped as he fully sheathed himself inside of her and kissed him. They started moving together and the pressure began to build. Harry took Hermione's hands and raised them above her head, keeping his hands on hers to give himself leverage. It was the first time Hermione had her hands immobilized in such a way and felt a thrill of excitement rush through her.

They were careful not to get too loud as to not wake Christopher, though it was hard. Neither of them thought to grab a wand and cast silencing charms around the room.

As the pressure began to build, Hermione wrapped her legs around Harry's waist, drawing him even deeper inside of her.

Then that moment came. Harry kissed Hermione with a bruising force as he spilled inside of her. She felt that explosive release and Harry let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Hermione hugged him back with her arms around his back and her legs around his hips.

As the kiss ended, they were both left gasping for breath. They stayed joined for a few minutes as Harry waited for her body to release its hold on him. When he felt he could move again, he collapsed beside her. He wrapped an arm around her and spooned her from behind. Together, they fell asleep on top of their covers.

* * *

When Harry came home the next evening, at the usual time, Christopher seemed surprised to see him. His honey brown eyes lit up with the smile that took over his whole face. He rushed to Harry and hugged him tightly around the waist. Looking up at him with a grin, he said, "Hi, Dad."

Harry smiled as he picked up his son and hugged him tightly. "Hi, Son," he replied.

"You're home today?" Christopher asked. "You're not working late?"

Harry shook his head. "Not today," he said. "Probably not for a while."

Christopher wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and squeezed tightly. "Yay!" he happily cried.

Harry chuckled as he loosened his son's arms. "You like it when I'm home?" he asked the boy.

Christopher nodded. "Mm-hm," he replied. "My other dad worked all the time and my other mum didn't like it. It made them fight a lot. They didn't know that I knew about it. They didn't think I could hear them."

It was with those words that Harry realized the weight of the situation. Christopher had already lost two sets of parents. Yes, he had also gotten the first set of parents back and he didn't remember losing them, but the second set were gone forever.

He also thought about everything Lavender and Seamus had said about the Brownings. They had been on the edge of a divorce. The only thing that prevented that was Christopher. Hermione had made it clear that she wasn't going to let that be an issue in the even that she had to leave him again. And leaving him would only happen in the event that he couldn't pull his head out of his own arse and step up. He wasn't just the primary bread winner, he was a father and he hadn't acted like one in the last week.

"I'm sorry, Chris," Harry said. "Your mum and I, we don't fight a lot. If you ever hear us fight, you don't have to worry about us, okay?" he asked. "Sometimes arguments between mums and dads are a good thing. When two people never fight, it usually means something's wrong."

"Why would fighting with someone be a good thing?" Christopher asked.

Harry smiled. "Because when you stop fighting, you have nothing left to fight for," he replied. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense to you now, but it will. I promise."

Christopher nodded. "Okay," he said. He looked thoughtful for a moment before his face brightened with a smile again. "Will you come play with me?" he asked.

Harry chuckled as he put his son down on the floor. "In a little while," he promised. "First, I need to say hi to your mum."

Christopher nodded before he ran back to his room. Harry chuckled before he looked at the doorway to the kitchen and saw Hermione standing there with a smile on her face.

"Hey there, Stranger," she said as she came toward him. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist as hers draped around his shoulders. He kissed her before another word was spoken.

"I love you," Harry whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry I've been obsessed with finding what happened to the Brownings. You're right; I need to be here for both you and Chris, and I can't do that if I'm out there chasing a shadow."

Hermione kissed Harry again. "You're forgiven," she replied.


	11. Chapter 10

Twist of Fate

Chapter 10

September arrived. Nearly a month passed since Christopher's arrival. Harry was home much more now that Hermione had made him realize how important it was for him to be there. Christopher was one of the happiest children Harry had ever seen, which wasn't saying much because the only children Harry had really ever _seen_ were Dudley, Theodore, and Victorie. Dudley had been spoiled rotten, Teddy was a few short months younger than Christopher and Harry only saw him on the holidays, and he hadn't seen Victorie in months because he wasn't a frequent visitor to the Weasleys anymore.

For a child who had lost his parents and gained a set of strangers, Christopher was certainly the happiest child Harry had ever seen.

Harry did his best to focus on that instead of the black-eyed stranger who had killed Christopher's parents. In the beginning, he caught himself still looking over the files while he was between classes. It took him boxing up the files and putting them in his closet before he actually stopped doing that. He didn't dare bring them home. The last thing he wanted was for Christoper to see the photos of his parents' charred bodies.

* * *

On Hermione's birthday, the unexpected happened. It was a Saturday, so Harry was home and they were having a late breakfast. The knock on the door made both Harry and Hermione stare at each other in confusion before Harry stood from his chair and went to answer. On the other side of the door, with a gift in his hands, was Ron. Next to him stood Ginny. They looked as shocked to see Harry as he was to see them.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked.

Speechless, Harry didn't know how to respond. He gaped at the two of them until Hermione came around the corner. "Harry, who's at the d-" Her word stopped short when she saw the two youngest Weasley siblings standing at the door.

Ron saw everything in an instant. Harry stood there in pajama bottoms, suggesting that he'd slept there. Hermione stood in a long t-shirt and sleeping shorts, suggesting that they were just getting their day started. The smell of breakfast in the air indicated that the start of the day was later than usual, which implied that there had been a late night the night before. As far as Ron knew, there was only one reason for a late night and it wasn't something he wanted to picture Harry and Hermione doing.

That was when Christopher came around the corner. "Mum, what's going on?" the little boy asked.

"Fantastic question," Ron nearly growled.

The words seemed to give both Harry and Hermione the kick-start they needed to face the situation. Harry cleared his throat. "Do you want to come in?" he asked. "We just finished making breakfast-there's plenty to go around."

"And?" Ginny asked.

Hermione cleared her throat. "And we can fill you two in on a few things," she added.

Stony-faced and stiff, Ron stepped into the apartment. He placed Hermione's birthday gift on the table next to the door, where he saw the dish filled with things from Harry's pockets. Looking around the apartment some more as he followed Harry and Hermione into the kitchen, he saw things that made his stomach clench and his small appetite wane even further. There was one picture hanging on the wall in particular that made his stomach churn. It was a picture of Harry, Hermione, and the little boy. They looked like a perfect, happy family.

Hermione dished up the plates as everyone seated themselves around the table. Harry stayed standing because there were only four chairs. Christopher, it seemed, also wanted to stand. He didn't want to be more than a few feet from his father's side.

Hermione set the plates down in front of Ginny and Ron before she sat down with hers. Harry had Christopher sit on the floor if he wasn't going to sit at the table, and leaned against the counter as he ate his bacon, pancakes, and eggs.

"So, what's new?" Ginny asked Hermione as she pointedly looked at Harry and Christopher.

Hermione sighed. "Well, quite a bit has happened," she said with a forced chuckle. She cleared her throat and took a drink from her coffee mug. "Just over a month ago, a woman knocked on my door. She told me that a couple had died and their young son had survived the accident-as he had been with a sitter at that time. She gave me an option: Raise the son I had once given up, or let him go to someone else. Naturally, I wanted him here with me, but I couldn't bring him here without telling his father." At this point, Ron looked at Harry before turning back to Hermione as she continued the story. "I went to the Auror department and found Harry. He was happy to see me because it had been the first time in nearly four and a half years. We talked about the situation and we came to a decision: We would raise our son together. We decided that we would get married and then a few days later, Christopher was brought to us."

Ginny and Ron both stared in shock. Ron's face was red with his anger and Ginny was pale with shock. "When the hell did the two of you have a child?" she nearly whispered.

Hermione cleared her throat. "After Ron left us in November, Harry and I became romantically involved with each other," she explained. "One night, we didn't take any precautions and we ended up pregnant. Because of the dangers of the war, we gave Christopher up for adoption. Nearly a week later, Ron came back."

"And damn near left again," Ron muttered. He shook his head and stared at them. "How could you not tell me?" he demanded. "I'm your best mate, Harry!" he cried. He looked at Hermione. "I used to be your boyfriend," he continued. He shook his head and sighed angrily. "At some point, you could have told me."

"We didn't want anyone to know," Harry said. He cleared his throat before continuing and set his plate aside. "We decided that the information staying out of the media was our most important goal because we knew that if Voldemort found out that I had a son, he would have used him against me. We also didn't want to hear it from the adults about how irresponsible we were or see the looks of pity they were going to give us for it, or any of those other reasons."

"It eventually became the reason I left," Hermione confessed. "I couldn't look at Harry every day, despite how much I love him, and not think of the son we had lost."

"More like abandoned," Ron bitterly muttered.

Hermione glared at him. "Have you heard a word we've said?" she demanded. "We didn't _abandon_ Chris! We did the only thing we could think to do to keep him safe."

Ginny reached over and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Ron," she said with a warning not in her voice. He sighed heavily and Ginny turned to look at Hermione. "So..." she sighed, "neither one of you could be bothered enough to tell your friends that you'd rekindled your relationship, found your child back in your life, or that you've gotten married?" she asked them. "Not once in the last month did you have the opportunity to write a letter or contact us through the Floo Network?"

Hermione sighed. "We wanted to make sure we would work as a family before saying anything to anyone," she replied. "We didn't want to tell the world right away because there was a very real possibility that it wouldn't last."

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked.

"It means that there is still the possibility that they could take Chris away from us. Honestly, at this point, I don't think that's very likely, but the social worker is here every other week to make sure that he is happy, healthy, and secure. We have to be very careful right now."

Ginny sighed. "Well...congratulations, I guess," she said.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you," she said.

Ron shook his head before he stood and walked out onto the balcony. Harry followed him because he knew there was a storm brewing in Ron's mind and that meant there would be a fight coming.

The moment Harry closed the sliding glass door, Ron looked at him. "You know how I feel about her," he said.

Harry nodded. "I know," he said carefully. "But you also know how I feel about her," he replied.

Ron shook his head. "Do you think things would have been different if I'd stayed?" he asked. "Would we be in opposite roles? Do you think?" he asked. Harry could easily hear the hope in his voice.

Harry sighed heavily. "I don't know, Ron," he replied. His thoughts drifted back to that first night when he and Hermione had confessed their feelings for each other and made love. "It was a couple of weeks after you left. I thought she was asleep, so I told her everything I couldn't ever say when she was awake. She wasn't actually sleeping, so she heard everything. That was when it really began for us."

"What did she say?" Ron asked.

Harry cleared his throat. "She said that she felt the same," he confessed. "And, of course, she chastised me for not telling her when I knew she'd be awake."

Ron chuckled despite his feelings. "That sounds like our girl," he sighed. He ran his hands through his ginger hair. "I'm not okay with this," he said, meeting Harry's green eyes. "We don't really talk much right now anyway, so I suppose that's going to make it easier. I'm trying like hell to not just hit you for this. You've done everything that I've always wanted to do, including being with Hermione. Looking back at our relationship, it's like she never really wanted to be with me to begin with. It's like when I asked her to be my date to the Yule Ball in fourth year. She was my last resort...and I became hers too..."

Harry didn't know what to do or say, so he didn't do anything. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "She didn't do it to hurt you," he said. "Back then," he clarified at Ron's questioning look. "It wasn't like she jumped on the chance to be with me the second you walked out of the tent. She was really upset and I'm sure that she was still upset about you leaving when she and I got together."

Ron sighed and leaned against the railing. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I think I'm going to go," he said. "I hated it when you two were together five years ago and I never really got over that. Now that you're married...it's going to take me some time."

Harry nodded. "It's understandable," he said.


	12. Chapter 11

Twist of Fate

Chapter 11

Aside from the surprise visit from Ron and Ginny, Hermione's birthday went very well. After they cleaned up breakfast, the three of them got dressed and went to the park, where they spent the rest of the morning playing with Christopher. In the afternoon, they went out for ice cream and went shopping in Diagon Alley. That night, Harry and Hermione took Christopher home, where Anna was waiting for them.

Christopher ran up to his old babysitter and jumped into her arms. "Anna!" he happily cried.

Hermione smiled at Anna as she and Harry walked up to them. "Thank you for coming," she said. "Sorry, we're running just a little behind."

"That's fine," Anna said. She smiled at Christopher. "Are you ready for some fun tonight?" she asked.

Christopher nodded as he hugged Anna.

Harry unlocked the door to their flat before letting everyone inside. "Anna, we need to change, but we'll be out of here in a few minutes.

Anna nodded. "Not a problem," she said with a smile.

"Have you used a phone before?" Harry asked.

"A what?" Anna replied.

Harry chuckled. "Follow me," he said before he led Anna to the kitchen. "We have a Muggle phone here," he explained. "If something happens to Chris, I want you to use it to call me. What you're going to do is pick it up off of the receiver," he said as he demonstrated, "and then you're going to put in my phone number using the keys," he said as he also demonstrated that. "When you hold it up to your ear, you're going to hear a ringing sound. I'll answer it and you'll be able to talk to me. Okay?" he asked.

Anna slowly nodded. Harry handed her a piece of paper with his phone number written on it as he hung up the phone. "Try it," he said.

Anna shook her head as she reached for the handset. She looked at the number Harry had written down and pushed the corresponding keys on the phone. For the second time, Harry felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. This time, he pulled it out and answered it. "Hi," he said with a smile. Anna stared at the phone in shock.

She quickly hung it up back up. "That is the oddest thing I've ever seen," she whispered. "Why can't I just send you a message using magic or something?" she asked.

"Well, for starters, you're underage," he said. "Secondly, we're going to be in a Muggle restaurant. It's going to be a lot more acceptable for me to excuse myself to answer my cell phone, than it is if you send me a message through magic."

"Oh," Anna said. "Okay then..."

Harry chuckled. "It's really not so bad," he said. "I really doubt you'll need to call us, but in the event that there's an emergency or something like that, we'll be just a phone call away and we'll come right back here."

Anna nodded. "You're right," she said with a smile. "Nothing's going to happen on my watch."

Harry smiled at her before he went back to the bedroom to change his clothes.

Hermione was already dressed in one of the three outfits she'd picked out for the night. Her dress was a simple cocktail dress in a shade of green that brought out the brown in her hair and eyes perfectly. Harry stopped the moment he walked into the bedroom and stared at her. He suddenly had the desire to pick her up and throw her down on the bed so that he could have his way with her without bothering to go out to dinner first.

"What?" Hermione asked.

Harry smiled at her. "You look...wow..." he said softly.

Hermione chuckled. "Thank you," she said.

"Do we need to go to dinner?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "Yes," she said. "You have to eat dinner before we can have dessert," she informed him with a twinkle in her eyes.

Harry felt his pants get a little tight. "Well then," he said. "I'll have to get dressed quickly so we can go."

Hermione nodded and Harry walked up to her so that he could plant a passionate kiss on her lips before he decided to get himself ready to go.

* * *

When they were ready to leave, they could see that there was something off with Christopher. Hermione stopped half-way to the door before she walked over to her son and knelt down in front of him. "What's wrong, Chris?" she asked.

"You're dressed really pretty," he said.

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she agreed. "Your dad and I are going out to a nice restaurant and when you go to a nice place like this, the socially acceptable norm is to dress nicely."

Christopher looked away. "My other parents were dressed nice when..."

Hermione realized what the scene looked like to him. "Oh," she whispered before she pulled her son into a tight embrace. "Nothing's going to happen to us, Poppet," she whispered to him. She quickly brushed away her tears as she brought him forward again. "If you get scared or if you want to know if we're okay, tell Anna and she'll call Daddy's cell phone, okay?" Hermione asked. "Even if you call us every five minutes, it's okay. We'll answer every time, okay?" she asked. Christopher nodded. "And if we don't hear from you, I'll call you when we're done eating okay?" Christopher nodded again before Hermione kissed his forehead. "You're going to be good for Anna, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Christopher said.

Hermione smiled at him. "We'll only be gone for a couple of hours," she said. "Do you remember how to count hours?" she asked. Once again, her son nodded. She pointed to the clock. "When the little hand is on the nine, we're going to be home, okay?" she asked. "Which one is the nine?" she asked.

Harry, seeing what Hermione was doing, took the clock down off of the wall so that Christopher could point to it. Their young son pointed to the nine on the clock's face.

"Now point to the twelve," Harry said. Christopher's little finger moved to the twelve. "When the long hand is there and the short hand is on the nine, we're going to be home," he said. "Can you tell me what number it's on now?"

"Six?" Christopher asked, looking at the time.

"That's right," Hermione said with a smile. "How many hours between six and nine?" she asked, knowing what Harry was doing.

Christopher moved his hand to the seven. "One," he said before going to the eight, "two," he continued. "Three?" he asked when his finger was on the nine again.

Hermione smiled at him. "That's right. "We're going to be gone for three hours," she said.

Christopher nodded as he smiled up at his parents. "Okay," he said.

"Call us if you need us," Hermione reiterated. Christopher nodded.

"Honey, we're going to be late if we don't go," Harry said.

Hermione sighed as she nodded. She gave Christopher another hug and kiss before she stood. "Right," she said with a sigh. She still didn't take her eyes off of her son.

Harry reached and turned her face toward him. "Christopher will still be here when we come back," he said, reading her hesitation.

Hermione nodded. "I know," she said with a forced smile. Harry smiled back at her before he led her to the door.

"Take care of him, Anna," Harry said as he opened the door. "Remember: Call us if anything happens or if he's scared and wants to know we're okay."

Anna nodded. "Have a nice dinner," she said with a smile.


	13. Chapter 12

Twist of Fate

Chapter 12

They had decided on Italian. Harry ordered a plate of lasagna and Hermione ordered herself a plate of chicken Parmesan. They drank wine and talked about various nothings while they waited for their food. Shortly before the waiter returned with their meals, Harry handed Hermione a long slender box wrapped in shiny red paper with gold stars. Hermione smiled at the obvious reference to their time in Gryffindor.

Hermione took the box from her husband and carefully unwrapped it. Once it was opened, she saw an elegantly beautiful diamond tennis bracelet. She smiled as she lifted it from the box. "It's beautiful," she breathlessly whispered.

Harry smiled as he took the bracelet from her and fastened it onto her wrist as their waiter arrived. "What a beautiful bracelet," the young man said. "Anniversary?" he asked.

Hermione smiled up at him. "No, it's my birthday," she replied.

"Happy birthday!" the waiter said as he set her plate down. "You must be what—twenty-one?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "No," she replied with a chuckle. "No, I'm twenty-three today," she said with a smile.

The waiter smiled at them again "Happy birthday," he said as he set Harry's plate down. "Is there anything else I can get the two of you?" he asked.

They both shook their heads. "Not right now, thank you," Harry replied.

Back at the apartment, Christopher eyed the clock nervously. His parents had been gone for what he assumed was half of an hour because the big hand of the clock was on the six but the little hand was only half way to the seven.

Anna didn't seem to care about the time. She sat in the kitchen working on something that Christopher didn't care about and she wasn't playing with him the way she used to. Maybe she had changed since the last time he had seen her, but he didn't know what could change in a month.

He tried to keep himself occupied by playing with his toys. Every so often, though, he would come back out of his room to see how far the hands on the clock had moved. Finally, when the big hand was on the twelve again, he asked Anna if he could call his parents.

* * *

The phone was set to a quiet ring so that Harry could hear it but that it wouldn't disturb the other patrons of the restaurant. When he heard the ring, he knew that Christopher was calling. Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Hermione. "I believe this is for you," he said.

Hermione chuckled before she took the phone from Harry. "Hello?" she asked.

"Hi, it's Anna," the young teenager said. "Chris wanted to talk to you."

"Okay, give him the phone," Hermione replied. She heard the handset exchange hands and then heard Christopher breathe into the mic.

"Mummy?" the young boy asked.

"I'm here, Poppet," Hermione replied. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay," Christopher replied. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "We're both fine, Chris," she replied. "Are you having fun with Anna?"

She heard him sigh. "When are you coming home?" he asked.

"We'll be there at nine," Hermione reminded him. "What does the clock say? What number is the little hand on?"  
"Seven," Christopher replied.

"How many more times is the big hand going to go to the twelve before Daddy and I come home?" she asked.

She heard him mutter his counts under his breath. "Two?" he asked.

"That's right," Hermione said with a smile. "Two more hours and then Daddy and I will come home. If you ask Anna to read to you or play a game with you, the time might go by a bit faster," she suggested. "Does that sound like fun?"

"I want you to read to me," Christopher replied.

Hermione smiled and had to fight tears of joy that her son _wanted_ her to be there. "I can't right now," she said. "I'll read to you when we get home if you're still awake though."

"Promise?" Christopher asked.

"I promise," Hermione replied. She saw the slight disappointment in Harry's eyes. She knew what he wanted to do when they got home. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"Yes, I suppose," Christopher replied. "I love you, Mummy," he said.

Hermione grinned. "I love you too, Poppet. Do you want to talk to Daddy too?" she asked.

"Can I?" Christopher asked.

"Of course you can," Hermione replied. "One moment," she said before she held the phone out to Harry.

Harry smiled and took the phone. "Hi Chris," he said. "Are you doing okay?"

"I'm okay," Christopher replied. "Are you okay?"

Harry inwardly chuckled. "I'm just fine. How is your time with Anna?" he asked.

"It's okay," Christopher replied. Harry noticed that he didn't seem enthused to spend time with his once-beloved sitter.

"Do you know what you can do with her?" Harry asked.

"What?" Christopher asked.

"You can play a game. Do you know how to play Hide and Seek?" he asked.

"No," Christopher replied.

Harry smiled. "You have to stay in the apartment for for it, but you can take turns hiding. When one person is hiding, the other person goes looking for them. Does that sound like fun?" he asked.

"I guess," Christopher replied.

Harry looked at his plate along with Hermione's. He could hear in Christopher's voice that he wasn't enjoying his time with Anna. He didn't want to cut their dinner short, but he didn't want a depressed child either. "Give me a moment, okay Chris?" he asked.

"Okay," the boy replied.

Harry brought the phone away from his ear and looked at Hermione. "He sounds miserable," he said.

Hermione nodded. "I know," she agreed with a sad look in her eyes.

Harry sighed. "It's your birthday," he said. "Do you want to go home early or do you want to finish eating here first?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "Will you be mad if I want to go home?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "I'll ask Chris what he wants," he said. Hermione nodded as Harry brought the phone back up to his ear. "Chris?" he asked.

"Yes?" the boy responded.

"Do you want us to come home now?" he asked.

There was silence for a moment. Harry could hear Christopher breathing into the mic. "Yes," he said after a moment.

Harry nodded to Hermione, who signaled for their waiter to come back to them. "Okay," Harry said. "Give us a few minutes and we'll be right home, okay?" he asked.

"Okay," Christopher replied.

"Give the phone to Anna so she can hang it back up, okay?" Harry asked.

"Okay," Christopher repeated. Harry waited until he heard the phone get placed back onto the receiver before he hung up the cell phone and put it back in his pocket. While he had waited, their waiter had brought them carriers to take their food home in. Harry paid for their meals before he wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders and they made their way back home.

* * *

Christopher was crying when they walked through the door. Anna was no where to be seen. Hermione rushed to her son and picked him up from the corner he had put himself in. He squeezed her tight and continued to cry.

Hermione rocked him for a moment, making soothing sounds to calm him down. "What happened?" she asked.

Harry went into the kitchen to put their left-overs away. He saw papers on the kitchen table that he didn't recognize, but there was still no Anna. He called out to her as he looked in each room. The girl was gone.

When Harry circled back into the kitchen, he picked up the papers that had been scattered on the kitchen table. They were all blank except for one, which had an odd symbol drawn on it. Harry picked up that piece of paper and looked at it carefully. He had never seen the symbol before and was concerned about what it could mean.

He turned the paper sideways to see if he could make any sense of the symbol. Turning it the other direction let him equally confused. When he turned the paper upside-down, however he saw it clearly.

Harry dropped the paper as if it had burned him. "Hermione, get Christopher out of the apartment," he called out. He knew she wanted to ask why, but he was grateful he heard her shut the door instead. When he was certain that he was the only member of his family inside of the apartment, he took out his wand and a white light burst out from the tip.

This time, the white orbs led Harry to Christopher's bedroom. Growing concerned, Harry continued to follow the orbs to the wardrobe. Wand ready, Harry cautiously opened the door. He found Anna, curled up on the bottom of the wardrobe, her long, dark brown hair curtaining around her.

"Anna?" Harry asked. He knelt down in front of the wardrobe and slowly reached out to her. "Anna, can you hear me?" he asked.

Anna suddenly looked up at Harry with gleaming red eyes. "_You have not won!_" she hissed before she slumped, unconscious, and fell into Harry's arms.

Harry scrambled to catch the young teenager before she hit the floor and managed to gather her in his arms. He carried her into the living room where he laid her down on the couch. He quickly inspected her arms for any marks, moved her head from side to side to see if there was anything on her neck or face, and looked at what he could see of her legs. There was nothing. He ran his hands through his hair before he went back to Christopher's room and retrieved his wand. When he came back into the living room, Anna was still unconscious.

Harry held his wand out over her body. His next spell was to reveal anything he couldn't see that was physically on her body. Nothing showed. He felt like he could relax, a little, but her actions had rattled him.

He rushed into the kitchen and gathered up her papers. He took them to the fire place and lit the flames before putting the papers in to be burned. He gathered up her things for her and he readied it all for her to go. By the time she was waking up, he was ready to get her out of his home.

"Anna, wake up," Harry said.

The girl pushed herself into a sitting position and looked around in confusion. "Where's Chris?" she asked.

"He's with Hermione," Harry replied. "It's late; you need to get back home."

Anna nodded before she stood. She accepted her bag from Harry and went to the fireplace. She picked up some Floo Powder and tossed it in before she went on her way. It was only after she was gone that Harry began to relax. He waited a few minutes longer, for his tension to ease, before he left the apartment to bring his family back into it.

* * *

**AN: Hey people, do me a favor and go check out thegranddisciple's awesome story called Phoenix and leave him a review. He's a great guy and he's lacking readers for a story that I'm really interested in seeing more of! ^_^ Don't forget to leave him a review! If you only review one story, make it his!**


	14. Chapter 13

Twist of Fate

Chapter 13

Hermione stood outside of the apartment building, with Christopher. Her eyes were glued to the living room window, where she could see Harry's shadow moving around. Christopher had calmed down immensely. He still sniffled at Hermione's ear, but she could tell that he felt a lot more safe now that she was with him. Whatever had happened in the apartment, he didn't want to tell her no matter how many times she had asked.

It was almost an hour before Hermione saw the living room glow green. By that point, Christopher had fallen asleep on her shoulder and Hermione had taken to sitting on a bench that was directly across the street from the apartment.

When she saw the front door open, she breathed a sigh of relief. Harry came across the street as Hermione stood. He took their son from her and the boy barely opened an eye. "Come on," he said before leading her back to the apartment.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head and she noticed the grim line of his jaw and how his face was set. "I'll tell you later."

Harry didn't say anything more as they entered the apartment. He took Christopher into the boy's bedroom and tucked him in while Hermione changed out of her dress. When Harry made it into their bedroom, she could see the worry as if it were oozing off of him.

"Are you going to me what was going on?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed and held his head in his hands for a moment before he loosened his tie. "Anna was in the wardrobe in Christopher's room," he said. He looked up at Hermione. "On the kitchen table, there were blank papers. Only one had anything on it and she'd drawn it a hundred times. At first I didn't recognize it. After I turned the paper around, I saw it clearly. I looked at the damn thing enough to know it..." Harry sighed heavily. "I used a spell to find her. One of the ones we're taught when we become Aurors. I found her in Christopher's wardrobe. She looked at me with red eyes and she said I haven't won before she passed out. I gathered up all of her things, I burned the papers, and when she came to, I sent her home." Harry was quiet for a moment before he met Hermione's fearful eyes. "She is _not_ coming back here," he said.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she whispered. She sighed and pulled her hair back into a twist that she let hang down her back with nothing to secure it. "What did she draw?" she asked.

Harry sighed. "It was a circle with a line coming down from it. Around the line and through the circle was another line that looked mostly like a figure eight, but the top came up through the circle instead of just being around the post."

Hermione stared at Harry with her eyes wide. "The Dark Mark?" she whispered.

Harry nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I don't know what her parents are teaching her since she isn't attending Hogwarts, but it isn't good. Not even Hogwarts students are shown that mark anymore. They're told that that was how Voldemort branded his followers, but it's never actually _shown_ to them..."

Hermione sighed. "My god..." she whispered.

Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Agreed," he muttered. He sighed once more and looked up at her. "Happy birthday," he sarcastically muttered.

Hermione gave him a weak smile. "Thanks," she replied.

* * *

In the morning, Harry had to keep himself from bombarding Christopher with questions. Hermione had mentioned that every time she had tried to ask their son what had happened, his crying became worse. She had to force herself to stop asking him in order for him to calm down and fall asleep.

Harry waited through breakfast and Christopher's bath. When he was cleaned up and ready for the day, Harry took him into his bedroom and the two of them sat down on the floor. Harry could see how withdrawn Christopher was and he was desperate to know what had happened to his child.

"Chris, can we play a game?" Harry asked.

Christopher looked up at his father with his mother's eyes. "Okay," he said. He clearly wasn't in the mood to play games.

"This is a special kind of game. In this game, I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them. If the question makes you scared, you can put on your cloak and pull up the hood so that no one can see you, okay?" he asked. Christopher nodded. "If you get too scared for three questions, I'll stop asking them and we'll play a new fun game," Harry said. "I really want you to answer as many as you can for me though, okay?" he asked.

Christopher nodded. "Okay," he said.

Harry stood and retrieved Christopher's cloak. He knelt down in front of his son and tied it around the boy's neck, letting the body of the cloak drape around his body.

"Were you having fun last night before something scary happened with Anna?" Harry asked.

Christopher shook his head. "She was ignoring me," he said.

"Is that why you called us while we were at dinner?"

Christopher nodded. "I wanted you to come home. I didn't like that she wouldn't play with me."

"When you asked to call us, what was Anna doing?"

"She was sitting at the table drawing something. She was talking to herself too."

"Do you know what she was saying?"

Christopher shook his head again. "I couldn't hear her."

"Did she say anything when you asked her to hang up the phone?"

"She told me that I was bad because I asked you to come home," Christopher replied.

"What happened after that?"

Christopher drew up the hood around his head. "She said bad boys need to be punished," he said. Harry could hear his voice waiver a little and knew that he was going to get fewer answers if he pushed the subject.

Harry sighed. "Do you remember what game I told you to play with her?" he asked.

"Hide and seek," Christopher said as he slowly pulled his hood back.

"Did you play it with her?"

"She said that she didn't want to play Muggle games and you were a bad wizard for suggesting one."

"Has Anna ever said anything about Muggles before?"

"A long time ago she said that her mum told her that Muggles were bad and when they caught a witch or a wizard they burned them to take their magic."

"Did you believe her?"

Christopher shook his head and the hood fell off completely. "No. My other mum told me that she was wrong. Everyone who thought that was wrong. She said that was what caused the last two wars."

Harry nodded. "Yes it was," he said softly. He sighed. "Did Anna ever hurt you?"

Christopher pulled his hood up, but didn't cover his face. "Once she hurt me and my other parents had to take me to St. Mungo's. My arm wouldn't move. She told me to tell them that I fell because I was doing something I shouldn't."

"Did you tell them that?"

Christopher nodded. "Yes," he said.

"Has she ever done anything else to you?"

Christopher nodded. "Yes," he said.

"Can you tell me?" Harry asked.

Christopher pulled up his sleeve. He showed Harry a scar on the inside of his bicep. They hadn't noticed it before and Harry was stunned when he realized that it was in the shape of a lightning bolt. "She did that," Christopher said.

"When?" Harry asked, his voice breaking.

"Last winter."

Harry cleared his throat. "If Anna hurts you, why do you still want to be around her?" he asked.

"It isn't her that hurts me," Christopher said.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"When she hurts me, in her head she goes away. Someone else takes over and does the things that hurt me."

"How do you know?"

"Her eyes go red."

"What happened last night, Chris?"

Christopher pulled the hood over his head, blocking him from view. "She wanted to make you hurt the way she hurt," he said. "She said that since she lost someone close to her, you needed to lose someone close to you."

"Who did she lose?"

"Her daddy," Christopher replied. He peeled back the hood enough to see Harry.

Harry felt as though he had been punched in the gut. The war, once again, was threatening to take away the most precious things in his life. "Did Anna ever tell you who her daddy was?"

"Tom Riddle," Christopher said. Harry felt his blood turn to ice. He stared at his son in horror and forced himself to stay sitting there and continue asking the questions he needed to ask.

Harry ran a shaking hand through his hair. "How old is Anna?" he asked.

"Twenty-seven," Christopher said. "She likes to tell people that she's younger though."

"Would you be okay with never seeing Anna again?" Harry asked.

Christopher nodded and the hood fell off again. "She was really scary yesterday."

"Would you be okay if we move out of this apartment?" Harry asked. "If we get a house with a big back yard that you can play in, would that be okay?" he asked.

Christopher nodded. "Can we have a swing?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "We can have whatever you want," he said before he stood and picked up his son. He hugged Christopher tightly. "I love you, Chris," he said. "I don't want you to ever get hurt, do you hear me?" he asked. Christopher nodded. "If anyone ever hurts you again, I want you to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me everything no matter what it is, okay? And I don't ever want you to talk to Anna again."

Christopher nodded. "Okay, Daddy," he said before he hugged Harry and laid his head down on his father's shoulder.

"Okay," Harry said after a minute. "Why don't you stay in here and play with your toys while I go talk to your mum," he said as he stood. Christopher nodded and took off his cloak. He handed it to Harry, who put it back on the hook on the wall. Harry stooped down to kiss the top of Christopher's head before he walked out of the bedroom and shut the door. He began walking toward the living room, but sank to the floor before he reached it because of the shock of what Christopher had revealed.


	15. Chapter 14

Twist of Fate

Chapter 14

Hermione had been trying to keep herself occupied by reading on the sofa while Harry was getting information from their son. She looked up as he had shut their son's bedroom door and put her book aside when he'd stopped walking. When he sank to the floor, she stood, and when he stared blankly ahead, she stood and went to him.

Hermione knelt down in front of her husband and held his face in her hands. "What happened?" she whispered.

Harry struggled to make himself focus on her face. "Anna is Voldemort's daughter," he whispered.

Hermione recoiled as if she'd been burned. "What?" she hissed.

Harry slowly nodded. "Christopher told me that she wants me to lose someone like she lost someone. She's also apparently twenty-seven, not thirteen...and she hurts him..."

Hermione felt the tears falling from her eyes before she even knew they were there. She stood quickly and rushed to Christopher's room. He was sitting in the middle of the floor, not doing anything. She picked him up and held him tightly before she started crying harder. "Never again," she said softly.

* * *

In the living room, Harry slowly got to his feet. He went back to Christopher's bedroom and saw Hermione standing there with the boy in her arms and tears running down her face. He cleared his throat and she looked at him. "I'm going in to the office to tell them," he said. "I want you to pack. We're moving. We'll go to Grimmauld for a while if we have to. After that, we're going to move somewhere else."

"Harry, I don't want you to leave," she said. "What if she comes here while you're gone?" she asked. "I can't fight her and protect Christopher at the same time."

"Yes you can," Harry said. "Hermione, you're the smartest person I know. You can do this."

Hermione shook her head. "I haven't fought a battle in years, Harry," she said. "It's been peace for me. You're the one who went out after the dark wizards after the war. I chose to become an historian. You can do this better than I can."

Harry sighed. "They need to be informed," he said.

"And they will be," Hermione agreed. "But can't you bring one of them here instead of going there?"

Harry sighed. "Yes," he said. "You'll need to inform Gertrude," he said.

Hermione nodded. "I will," she said.

Harry nodded before he walked back out of the bedroom. He walked into the living room and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. The great thing about being in the Auror department was that they used Muggle technology in order to better blend in when it was necessary. Harry dialed the number to his old supervisor.

"Mac," the man answered.

"Mac, it's Potter," Harry replied.

"Potter?" Mac asked. "Haven't heard from you in a while. How are you?"

"Been better," Harry replied. "Listen, I need you to send someone down here to my place. I've got a situation that I need reported."

"What happened?" Mac asked.

Harry sighed. "Do you remember when I started looking into the fire that killed the Brownings?" he asked. Mac grunted. "I have some information that I think is related to that and I can't be a part of the case. I need you to send someone out here. It's important, Mac."

Mac sighed. "You wouldn't ask if it wasn't," he said. "I'll come down there myself. What's the address?"

Harry gave him the address of the apartment before Mac hung up the phone on his end. Harry stood there for a moment longer before he put his phone in his pocket and looked around the room. He held out his wand. "_Pack,_" he said softly. Everything that could be put into boxes was suddenly packed up neatly in cardboard. Only magic could make moving so pleasant.

Harry then moved into the kitchen and did the same thing with the contents there. The food, when it was put into a box, was spelled to remain cold. Harry moved to the bathroom and repeated the spell. Then their bedroom was packed up.

Christopher's room was last. Harry stepped in and cleared his throat, bringing Hermione out of whatever reprieve she was drawn into. "I'm packing everything," Harry said. Hermione nodded. "This is the last room," he added.

Hermione nodded once more and carried Christopher out of the room. Harry repeated the packing spell once more before he gathered all of the boxes together in the living room. Hermione looked around and realized that she had never been so happy to leave a place before. She had moved in here to escape a world without Harry and now she was leaving to find a world without a connection to Voldemort. She couldn't wait to get away.

Harry focused on the boxes. One more spell sent them to Grimmauld Place before he and Hermione could leave. The furniture could be retrieved later if they decided that they wanted to keep it.

Harry looked at Hermione. "Use the Floo Network," he said. "Tell Gertrude we need to speak with her soon."

Hermione nodded and put Christopher down. The boy walked up to Harry, who picked him up and held him close. As Hermione stuck her head in the flames, there was a knock on the door. Harry answered it with Christopher on his hip. Mac smiled at him before Harry allowed the Auror into the house.

Mack looked at the empty apartment. "You're moving?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry replied before he took Mac into the kitchen and sat him down at the table there. Christopher curled up on Harry's lap and laid his head on Harry's chest. As Harry told Mac the story of Anna and what had happened both to the Brownings and to Christopher, the young boy fell asleep, soothed by his father's voice and steady heartbeat.

* * *

"We'll put out an alert for her," Mac said when Harry finished telling the story. "When we bring her in, we'll monitor her and see if we can get a reaction. I'm not sure what we'll need to do, but we'll do our best."

"She may not give you a reaction," Harry said. "Chris told me this morning that she isn't always like that. He says she's nice until her eyes turn red. I saw them last night, Mac. They were as red as his were."

Mac sighed. "It's always you, isn't it?" he asked. "I mean, when something goes wrong or when something like this happens, it's always you."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," Harry sighed.

"Where are you moving to?" Mac asked.

Harry cleared his throat. "Back to Grimmauld for a while," Harry said. "We want to be somewhere that Anna doesn't know. We don't want to risk her finding Chris."

Mac nodded. "Where is Anna?"

Harry shook his head as he sighed. "Godric's Hallow, I think," he said. "She watched Chris before the adopted parents died. Last night was the first time that Hermione and I went out after he came to us. We asked Anna to come watch him because she had asked to still be his sitter. We didn't see anything wrong with that. She visited us almost every day..." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He met Mac's eyes again. "She was in my _home_ with my _family_," he said. "I feel like the worst father and husband in the world," he confessed. "After everything that I went through with Voldemort, you would think that I would recognize his kin..."

Mac shook his head. "No one knew that You Know Who had a child. No one knew he was even capable of it. You couldn't have known, Harry, especially if she was parading around as a thirteen year-old girl. Any child of his would have to be known to be your age or older before they were even suspect."

Harry nodded. "I know," Harry said. "But I can't help but feel like I should have known..."

Mac nodded. "I know, Harry," he said.

"Let me know what you find," Harry said.

Mac nodded. "You know I will," he said. Harry nodded again before both men stood up. Harry showed Mac to the door and looked at Hermione as she sat on the sofa. Once Mac was gone, Hermione stood up and walked up to Harry. "You're not a bad father or a bad husband, Harry," she said before she kissed him. "You're excellent at both of those things. A bad father wouldn't pack up everything he owns because someone threatened his family. A bad father would say that he hopes it doesn't happen again."

Harry sighed. "I can't help but feel that way," Harry said softly.

Hermione sighed as she brushed back the hair on Christopher's head. "Do you think he would trust you enough to fall asleep in your arms if he thought you were a bad father?" she asked.

Harry looked down at his sleeping son. "I guess not," he said softly.

Hermione smiled as she looked up at him. "Exactly," she said. "Now let's get out of here."


	16. Chapter 15

Twist of Fate

Chapter 15

Grimmauld Place had changed in the years since Harry had inherited it from Sirius. Since the house had passed out of Black family hands, most of the magic that kept the darker things from being removed had broken. Sirius' mother's portrait was finally removed, which was a relief because Harry was honestly sick of hearing the woman scream obscenities every time there was a loud noise. The curse left behind in the wake of Dumbledore's death had also been removed, meaning there was no longer a vision of the old man attacking anyone who entered the house.

The air felt lighter, there was more light, and the walls had been painted so that it wasn't as dark as it once was.

It was the first time since the end of the war that Hermione had stepped inside of the house. She was astonished at the changes it had undertaken. "Harry, it looks amazing," she said almost breathlessly.

Harry smiled at her. "I still have a lot of work to do, but it's getting there," he replied.

* * *

They spent the rest of the week getting a lot of the house cleaned up. By the time Gertrude arrived on Friday to inspect the house, it was unrecognizable from what it had once been when it had been used as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

Christopher played in the sitting room while Harry, Hermione, and Gertrude had tea in the dining room. "Explain to me why you two suddenly decided to move?" Gertrude asked.

Hermione had given the social worker a brief explanation of what had happened the night before they had packed everything up, but details had yet to be given. Harry, who knew better than Hermione what had happened because he had sent her outside, explained what had happened with Anna. As he told the story, Gertrude's face paled. Her hand started trembling so much that the cup atop the saucer began to rattle to the point that she quickly put it down to prevent it from becoming too noticeable or bothersome. "She seemed like such a nice girl..." Gertrude whispered.

"According to Chris, she isn't even a 'girl'," Hermione said. "She's older than we are."

Gertrude stared at the two of them in shock. "Older than... How old is she?" she asked.

"According to Chris, she's twenty-seven," Harry replied.

Gertrude looked ready to faint. "Merlin," she whispered. "And what is being done about this?"

"Aurors are on the lookout for her. We don't have an exact address for her so there isn't anywhere that we can specifically send them to. Since the Brownings were in Godric's Hallow, I suggested that they start the search for her there."

Gertrude gave Harry an odd look. "I wasn't aware that you knew their names," she said. "And certainly not where they lived."

"I'm an Auror turn teacher at the Auror Academy," Harry reminded her. "Wizarding families don't die in fires often enough to make it difficult to find out who and where they were. In fact, most of the time, there's someone else involved in a case like that."

"Is there someone else involved with the Brownings' deaths?" Gertrude asked.

Harry sighed. "Yes," he said. "But no one is looking into it because they've ruled it accidental."

"How do you know otherwise?" Gertrude asked.

"Chris had a nightmare about it when no one told him what had happened," Harry said. "I went and looked into it and he was right. I just need to figure out—" Harry stopped talking suddenly because he had finally put all of the pieces together. "Oh my god," he whispered.

"What?" Hermione and Gertrude both responded.

Harry mentally shook himself. "Anna," he whispered. "Anna killed the Brownings..."

"Why would she do that?" Gertrude asked.

Hermione chose a better question. "I thought Chris said that the person who killed his parents was looking for him. If he was with Anna that night, wouldn't she know where he was?"

"Not necessarily," Harry replied. "Anna only knows what she sees when she changes personalities. If Chris was asleep in the other room, she wouldn't have known that. The fire started in the middle of the night, so he would have absolutely been asleep. She must have decided that that would be the night that she was going to make me suffer and that was why she went to the Brownings' house and started the fire..."

"She does have very dark eyes..." Hermione said softly.

Harry slowly nodded. "She has Riddle's eyes," he said.

"Riddle?" Gertrude asked.

"Before Voldemort was Voldemort, he was Tom Riddle," Harry explained. "Riddle was the son of a drunken witch and a Muggle who was under the influence of love potions. She was pregnant when she decided to tell him the truth about who she was and what their marriage was based on. He sent her away and she died in childbirth. Riddle grew up in an orphanage. His very first victims were his father and grandparents."

"I didn't know that..." Gertrude whispered.

"Most people don't," Harry replied. "For a reason."

Gertrude nodded. "Yes," she agreed.

Harry sighed heavily. He looked at Hermione. "When they move in on her, I want to be there," he said.

Hermione nodded. "I know you do," she said. "I expected nothing less."

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry. I know you want me done with that line of work."

"Harry, this involves our son," she said. "I want in on it but I can't be. I can't ask you to stand on the sidelines when your family has been threatened."

Harry nodded. "Thank you for understanding," he said.

Hermione smiled at him. "Harry, it's me," she said with a chuckle. "No one knows you better than I do."

Harry smiled as a chuckle escaped him. "Very true," he said.

Gertrude studied both Harry and Hermione for a moment. "How do you both stay so strong?" she asked. "If I ever found out that the daughter of You Know Who was targeting my child, I would be cowering in terror..."

Harry sighed. "We're scared, trust me," he said. "But the thing you have to remember is that, unlike everyone else, we grew up fighting him. Hermione and I were both raised Muggle and we came into this world when we went to Hogwarts for the first time. In our very first year, we came up against him. We fought him. We defeated him. Every year I went to school, except for _one_, I faced Voldemort and survived it. His daughter isn't another version of him, she's someone else with a completely different set of rules. But I fought dark wizards for a living. I killed Voldemort when I was eighteen years old. I did things that no adult should ever face but I did it. I don't have it in me to cower in terror. If I don't stand up and fight back, I won't know what to do."

Gertrude sighed. "You amaze me," she said softly. "You truly amaze me. Both of you." She sighed. "When they first brought your son to me and told me who he was, I was astonished that I was holding the son of Harry Potter. I think I even stared at him for a full five minutes before I actually took him and started working. None of us could believe it, but we were able to keep ourselves quiet because of the nature of our work. There are times when we aren't told who the parents are. That's especially true in cases where the babies are just dumped on us, when I saw him and I heard what happened and why, I knew that I was going to be part of something important..." Gertrude sighed heavily. "I almost adopted him myself," she confessed. "If I hadn't just had a set of twins, I likely would have.

"I screened every applicant carefully. I wanted the perfect parents for him since he couldn't be with you. The Brownings...they were as close to perfect as I could find. They had been trying to have a child for five years with no luck. Their profile was pristine, which is almost impossible given the process to become applicants. I approached them with Chris and I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from telling them who you were. They loved him instantly and were so humble when they took him. I thought to myself that they would make sure he grew up right," she said as she nodded. She brushed a tear away. "I kept in touch with them for a while," she said. "Then the call came in and said that they were dead and Chris's care was reverting back to us because we were the last-known guardians for him and the Brownings had no surviving family. I knew, the moment his file crossed my desk, that you would want him back if it was possible. I couldn't find any information for you," she said with her eyes on Harry, " but I was able to locate your information," she said as her eyes turned to Hermione.

They were all silent for a moment. Hermione almost felt as though she should say something, being the quiet one of the conversation. She thought about what she could add as far as diatribes went, but the only thing she could think to talk about was the thing she never wanted to think of again.

She reached for Harry's hand and held it tightly. "I love you," she said softly. They seemed the be the only words necessary.

Harry smiled at her. "I love you too," he said before he pulled her toward him so that he could plant a kiss on her lips.


	17. Chapter 16

Twist of Fate

Chapter 16

The call came in the next day. As promised, Mac called Harry with the directions. Harry had to force himself not to run out of his classroom and leave his students with no direction. He managed to dismiss his students, inform the dean that there wouldn't be any more classes for him for the rest of the day due to a personal emergency, and send a message to Ron to call Hermione at Grimmauld Place and let her know what had happened.

Anna had been found in Godric's Hallow and tailed to the Scottish Highlands. It was easy to lose a person out there and it was secluded enough that a person could certainly do a lot of dark magic before anyone called it in. Even worse, they could have an army of dark creatures before anyone noticed. They would have to move in fast in order to keep the situation from becoming severe.

The sky was dark with the promise of rain and the wind whipped around them. Harry saw five Aurors gathered behind a pair of boulders. He quickly approached them with his head down as to escape the wind as much as possible.

Aside from Mac, there were two Aurors that Harry had worked with in the past and recognized. The first was Caden, a man who had graduated with Harry. The second was Bruce, a senior Auror who had been through it all, including both wars.

Harry walked up to Mac. "What's the situation?" he asked over the wind. They were far enough away that Harry wasn't worried about his voice carrying down to the cottage.

"Caden tracked her out here," Mac said. "She's been in there for about twenty minutes. We want to move fast. There can be no room for miscalculation. You're here for two reasons. One: your expertise. Two: I know you won't let us do this without you. The goal is to capture, not kill, but if it does come to that, I want no hesitation. Understand?" Mac asked.

Harry gave a curt nod. "Understood," he replied.

Mack nodded. "Let's get in there then," he said. "Standard formation and execution."

Harry nodded. He and Mac took point at the head of the group. Although he hadn't worked with either of the other two Aurors, he trusted Mac's judgment and hoped it wouldn't get anyone killed.

They silently made their way to the cottage, expecting a fight when they arrived. They were well hidden by the Highlands, but that didn't mean that Anna hadn't set up barriers to alert her when an unfriendly presence came near.

They gathered around the house. Mac, Harry and Caden took the front door while Bruce and the other two Aurors took the back. An Auror spell enabled Mac to speak to everyone so that he wouldn't have to raise his voice.

Mac counted down from three. As a single unit, the team burs into the cottage from both sides. As expected, Anna was waiting for them.

She stood in the middle of the empty front room. Her spell was already in motion and the moment the first of the six Aurors entered the room, he was thrown against the wall and immediately knocked unconscious.

The second Auror was also thrown back, crashing into a bookshelf. He also slumped down on the floor, unconscious.

Harry shot off a few spells at Anna. Her preparations made it nearly impossible to attack her. The Aurors themselves could only get within a few feet of Anna, increasing the difficulty of taking her down.

When they realized that her spells couldn't work on two targets at the same time, Harry and Mac formulated a plan. They charged Anna together and when her spell came toward them, Mac got in front of Harry, blocking him from the spell. Mac was thrown and left virtually paralyzed on the floor, but it gave Harry a clear shot at the daughter of the most evil wizard to grace their world.

Harry tackled Anna as her spell came at him again. He caught her around the waist and held on as they were both knocked into the wall.

Anna screamed at such a pitch and volume that everyone who could covered their ears. She hit Harry with pure magic and the force of it knocked him off of her. She rose up in the air and looked at Harry.

As he stared up at her, the only thing Harry could think of was how much she looked like Voldemort and how he couldn't believe that he had been so blind as to believe the sorcerer was truly gone.

"Harry Potter," Anna said in a voice that sounded so much like her father's. "You made my father suffer beyond comprehension. Because of you, my father is dead and now, you will suffer as I have suffered."

Anna pointed her wand directly at Harry's chest. "_Crucio!_" she shouted.

The pain was just as blinding and intense as Harry remembered. He heard his own involuntary scream, but didn't realize it was actually his voice.

Mac stood and pointed his wand at Anna. The spell he cast bound her arms and legs together with silver cords. Anna screamed in frustration.

Harry felt the spell release and crumpled on the floor like a rag doll. Breathing heavily, he felt his body shaking in memory of the pain.

With more effort than his exasperated muscles were ready for, Harry pushed himself up and stared at Anna. "Why?" he whispered.

"I told you why," Anna replied in a low, dark voice. "You are a curse that needs to be destroyed."

"No," Mac grunted. "You are."

"Think about Chris, Anna," Harry begged. "Think about how much you'll hurt him by killing me. He trusts you, Anna! He loves you!"

There were a few seconds of silence while the words sank in. Anna's eyes slowly faded from red to brown. "Christopher," she whispered before her eyes flared red once more. "He was merely a tool," she spat in a harsh voice. "A means to get to you. Nothing more."

"You care about him, Anna, I know you do!" Harry insisted.

Anna slowly shook her head. "Anna doesn't live here anymore," she said. "She fought for a long time, but our father's blood is stronger and now she is all but extinguished. A candle in the wind."

"Voldemort is _dead_," Harry spat. "_I _killed him myself! I stood over him as he begged me for mercy and I fucking killed him!" he screamed. "I am already punished for my actions. Every day I remember what I did! I don't need you!"

"I NEED RETRIBUTION!" Anna screamed. She broke free of the bonds holding her captive and lunged for Harry. The two of them met in a flurry of blows, both physical and magical. Harry remembered that Mac had said that they preferred Anna to be taken in alive, but Harry had just crossed the threshold into not caring if she lived or not.

**AN: I'm sorry for the short chapter. I know, I'm leaving it on a cliff, but it's either cut it here or have a chapter that is waaaaaaay too long. It won't be long before the next chapter, though, I promise. ;)**

**So, just so we're clear, the ending of this story is going to be done in three chapters and it is going to have a "_Clue_" type ending. The reason for this is because I wasn't sure just how cruel I wanted to be. There are three technical endings and they will be listed as 17A, 17B, and 17C. As in the movie _Clue_, the final ending will be the "true" ending. **


	18. Chapter 17 a

**AN: So, as I mentioned before, there will be three endings to this story, in the style of the move ****_Clue_**** starring Tim Curry, if you've ever seen it. This is the first of the three endings, which I have dubbed the Ugly. **

Twist of Fate

Chapter 17

Hermione heard Christopher's scream from a floor away. She looked up at the ceiling before she started running for the staircase. Her wand in hand, she took the stairs two at the time to reach Christopher as quickly as possible.

She burst through the door and saw him sitting in bed, drenched in sweat, with a look of terror on his face. Hermione was reminded of the last time she had seen Christopher ins such a state nd rushed to the boy.

She held her sn tightly, just as she had the last time he had cried like this. She soothed him by softly singing a lullaby that her mother had once sang to her. She had him nearly calmed down when he started struggling against her, crying repeatedly "She's hurting him! She's hurting him!"

"Christopher!" Hermione had to shout, just to stop his struggles and cries.

Christopher stopped suddenly and stared at his mother with eyes that showed too much white from his fear. "She's hurting him," he nearly whispered before Hermione heard the phone ringing downstairs.

Shaking, Hermione took Christopher down the stairs with her. She reached the phone as it sounded for the fourth time. "Hello?" she asked with her heart in her throat.

"Hermione?" she heard. "It's Ron."

"Ron! Hi," Hermione replied, unable to hide the surprise in her voice. "What's going on?"

"I just got the message from Harry," Ron said. "The call came in about two hours ago. Anna's been found—she's in Scotland. They're out there now to bring her in. I'm going out there in a minute, but I wanted to pass the word on to you."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered. She blinked back the tears in her eyes as she readjusted Christopher on her hip. She cleared her throat. "Ron, will you...will you tell him to call me the minute he has the chance?" she asked. "I'm really worried about him."

"I will," Ron promised. He cleared his throat as the conversation fell into an awkward silence. "Can I ask—"

"I gave everything I had to our relationship, Ron," she replied. "I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't try to betray you, I just..." she sighed heavily. "I didn't love you like that. I'm sorry, Ron, but you're like a brother to me. I love you, but not that way..."

Ron sighed. "At least you're honest with me," he said. "And if that's all I get, then at least it's better than nothing. I'll tell Harry that you love him and he needs to cal you as soon as we gt a minute."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said. She sighed as she put the phone back on the receiver. "What did you dream?" she asked her son.

"Anna is hurting Daddy," Christopher replied.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and fought back her tears as she hugged Christopher tightly. She could only pray that Christopher didn't see.

Harry looked up at Anna. Mac, Caden, Bruce, and the other two Aurors were unconscious or bound by magic. Anna wanted Harry and Harry alone. He was amazed that she hadn't just killed any of them outright.

"Did you know that a piece of your soul transfers to your children when you have the?" she asked. "It's how children and mothers recognize each other even after years of separation. It happens with fathers and children as well. That's why Chris bonded to you both so quickly.

"That's also why he can see what I do. You see, Harry, you forgot something really important. Not only did you pass on a piece of your soul, you passed on the connection you had to my father. That's gone from you now, but Christopher still as a piece of Voldemort inside of him. As do I. You see, Harry, until you kill me and you kill your son, you will not have defeated Voldemort. You have not won."

With a scream of rage, Harry pushed himself to his feet and charged her, magic forgotten. He ran at her at full speed and crashed into her, knocking them both to the ground. He ignored Anna's screams as he hit her repeatedly in the face. Over and over, he punched her. He didn't hear her cries. He didn't hear his screams. He didn't feel the pain in his hands.

He also didn't notice when Anna's screams were silenced. He didn't notice that her spells broke with her death.

It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he even looked up. He saw Ron standing above him. "She's dead, Harry," he said softly. They were the only words.

Harry looked down at his shaking, bloody hands. His eyes took in Anna's battered face. He had literally beaten her to death. It was the first time since he had killed Voldemort that he had truly wanted anyone to die.

But this was the first time he had ever killed anyone with his bare hands.

Hermione paced back and forth. Christopher sat at the desk in the study, working quietly on his studies. He looked up at Hermione as she made her next circuit. Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt the urge to hurt her. She was an impure blemish in his perfect world. Intelligence was of little importance when it was put up next to purity of blood. He remembered Anna saying those things.

He suddenly, clearly, remembered the night the Brownings died. Yes, Anna had killed them in the fire, but only because he had informed her that his true father was Harry Potter. The Brownings were only killed because they knew that it would bring Christopher back to Harry. It would ensure that nothing would stand in the way of them completing the task Voldemort had set out on so many years ago.

Christopher saw the wand sitting on the end table. As Hermione turned her back to him once again, Christopher picked up the wand, pointed it at Hermione, and whispered two words.

A green light flooded the room and Hermione fell to the ground without the slightest whimper.

Harry stood in the showers of the Auror locker room. The water pooling at his feet was red with Anna's blood. He stood with his head bowed under the faucet and started to shake. He could hear Anna's voice telling him once more that he had not won. He could hear her telling him that Voldemort, once again, was going to take every last thing that was precious to him.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah?" Harry asked with a rough voice.

He heard Ron's heavy sigh despite the water. "Harry, I have bad news. There's been a Dark Mark sighting."

"Where?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"Grimmauld Place," Ron whispered.

Harry dropped to his knees in the shower. It bubbled up from deep inside and the only thing he could do was scream.

They burst through the front door. Harry rushed to the sitting room on the first floor and saw Hermione face down on the ground in front of the fireplace. He rushed to her and dropped to his knees at her side. He rolled her onto her back and picked her up. "Hermione?" he asked.

She was cold. She was limp. She didn't even twitch.

Harry felt his heart break. "No," he cried, shaking her. "Hermione!" he cried. "Hermione! Wake up, Hermione!" he begged. "NO!" he screamed, clutching her dead body to him. He screamed with his agony as the Aurors searched the house.

"Daddy?" Christopher asked.

Harry looked up and met his son's red eyes. "I'll fucking kill you!" Harry shouted, letting go of Hermione as he rushed at Christopher. The boy didn't even blink as Harry rushed to him. When Harry reached him, he felt the knife enter in his gut and knew that his life was coming to an end.

He held Christopher's face in his hands. "Why?" he whispered.

"You have not won," Christopher whispered before Harry twisted his hands and broke his son's neck.

**Or maybe THIS is how it ended...? [next chapter]**


	19. Chapter 17 b

**AN: Ending number 2. I call this one the bad ending.**

Twist of Fate

Chapter 17

Hermione heard Christopher's scream from a floor away. She looked up at the ceiling before she started running for the staircase. Her wand in hand, she took the stairs two at the time to reach Christopher as quickly as possible.

She burst through the door and saw him sitting in bed, drenched in sweat, with a look of terror on his face. Hermione was reminded of the last time she had seen Christopher in such a state and rushed to the boy.

She held her son tightly, just as she had the last time he had cried like this. She soothed him by softly singing a lullaby that her mother had once sang to her. She had him nearly calmed down when he started struggling against her, crying repeatedly "She's hurting him! She's hurting him!"

"Christopher!" Hermione had to shout, just to stop his struggles and cries.

Christopher stopped suddenly and stared at his mother with eyes that showed too much white from his fear. "She's hurting him," he nearly whispered before Hermione heard the phone ringing downstairs.

Shaking, Hermione took Christopher down the stairs with her. She reached the phone as it sounded for the fourth time. "Hello?" she asked with her heart in her throat.

"Hermione?" she heard. "It's Ron."

"Ron! Hi," Hermione replied, unable to hide the surprise in her voice. "What's going on?"

"I just got the message from Harry," Ron said. "The call came in about two hours ago. Anna's been found—she's in Scotland. They're out there now to bring her in. I'm going out there in a minute, but I wanted to pass the word on to you."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered. She blinked back the tears in her eyes as she readjusted Christopher on her hip. She cleared her throat. "Ron, will you...will you tell him to call me the minute he has the chance?" she asked. "I'm really worried about him."

"I will," Ron promised. He cleared his throat as the conversation fell into an awkward silence. "Can I ask—"

"I gave everything I had to our relationship, Ron," she replied. "I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't try to betray you, I just..." she sighed heavily. "I didn't love you like that. I'm sorry, Ron, but you're like a brother to me. I love you, but not that way..."

Ron sighed. "At least you're honest with me," he said. "And if that's all I get, then at least it's better than nothing. I'll tell Harry that you love him and he needs to cal you as soon as we get a minute."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said. She sighed as she put the phone back on the receiver. "What did you dream?" she asked her son.

"Anna is hurting Daddy," Christopher replied.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and fought back her tears as she hugged Christopher tightly. She could only pray that Christopher didn't see.

Harry looked up at Anna. Mac, Caden, Bruce, and the other two Aurors were unconscious or bound by magic. Anna wanted Harry and Harry alone. He was amazed that she hadn't just killed any of them outright.

"Did you know that a piece of your soul transfers to your children when you have them?" she asked. "It's how children and mothers recognize each other even after years of separation. It happens with fathers and children as well. That's why Chris bonded to you both so quickly.

"That's also why he can see what I do. You see, Harry, you forgot something really important. Not only did you pass on a piece of your soul, you passed on the connection you had to my father. That's gone from you now, but Christopher still has a piece of Voldemort inside of him. As do I. You see, Harry, until you kill me and you kill your son, you will not have defeated Voldemort. You have not won."

With a scream of rage, Harry pushed himself to his feet and charged her, magic forgotten. He ran at her at full speed and crashed into her, knocking them both to the ground. He ignored Anna's screams as he hit her repeatedly in the face. Over and over, he punched her. He didn't hear her cries. He didn't hear his screams. He didn't feel the pain in his hands.

He also didn't notice when Anna's screams were silenced. He didn't notice that her spells broke with her death.

It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he even looked up. He saw Ron standing above him. "She's dead, Harry," he said softly. They were the only words.

Harry looked down at his shaking, bloody hands. His eyes took in Anna's battered face. He had literally beaten her to death. It was the first time since he had killed Voldemort that he had truly wanted anyone to die.

But this was the first time he had ever killed anyone with his bare hands.

Hermione paced back and forth. Christopher sat at the desk in the study, working quietly on his studies. He looked up at Hermione as she made her next circuit. Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt the urge to hurt her. She was an impure blemish in his perfect world. Intelligence was of little importance when it was put up next to purity of blood. He remembered Anna saying those things.

He suddenly, clearly, remembered the night the Brownings died. Yes, Anna had killed them in the fire, but only because he had informed her that his true father was Harry Potter. The Brownings were only killed because they knew that it would bring Christopher back to Harry. It would ensure that nothing would stand in the way of them completing the task Voldemort had set out on so many years ago.

But no. These were his parents. They loved him unconditionally. They had let him go for his safety and protection. They had believed that they were doing the right thing. And then, with the deaths of the Brownings, they stood up and became the parents they were meant to become. They had loved him, cared for him, and comforted him.

He knew he had to fight the darkness inside of himself, but he also knew that there wasn't a way for him to do it and be stronger than the piece inside of him that had latched on to every possible crack and crevice in his soul. This is what had happened to Anna; he saw that now. He remembered her being so nice in the beginning. Then, when she found out he was adopted, she began to change. She discovered who his parents were before anyone else had the chance. She was the one who formulated the plan to get into Harry's life again. She was the one who, more than anyone else, wanted to see Christopher back with Harry for the purpose of killing him to avenge her father.

Christopher saw the wand sitting on the end table. As Hermione turned her back to him once again, Christopher picked up the wand, pointed it at himself, and whispered two words he should never have known. This, he knew, was the only way to solve the problem.

A green light flooded the room and Hermione turned around in time to see her son fall and her wand drop from his tiny hands.

Harry stood in the showers of the Auror locker room. The water pooling at his feet was red with Anna's blood. He stood with his head bowed under the faucet and started to shake. He could hear Anna's voice telling him once more that he had not won. He could hear her telling him that Voldemort, once again, was going to take every last thing that was precious to him.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah?" Harry asked with a rough voice.

He heard Ron's heavy sigh despite the water. "Harry, I have bad news. There's been a report of an Unforgivable Curse being used."

"Where?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"Grimmauld Place," Ron whispered.

Harry dropped to his knees in the shower. It bubbled up from deep inside and the only thing he could do was scream.

They burst through the front door. Harry rushed to the sitting room on the first floor and saw Hermione bent over Christopher, sobbing as she administered CPR. He saw her wand on the floor near them and couldn't believe the sight. He could hear the sickening crunch of Christopher's broken ribs from Hermione's efforts. He knew, better than most, that there was only one way to survive the Killing Curse, and even that required a death.

Harry stepped up to Hermione and knelt down in front of her. She looked up from her ministrations and met Harry's eyes. "It's not working, Harry," she sobbed. She continued her attempt to bring their son back to life until she saw Harry's hand over her own.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. Hermione shook her head. "Hermione, please, stop," Harry said with tears on his cheeks. "He's gone, Hermione," Harry continued.

Hermione suddenly stopped trying to resuscitate her son and collapsed on top of him with her sobs. Harry moved around Christopher's body and pulled her toward him. She clung to him with desperation and screamed and cried into his chest.

Harry closed his eyes and cried with his wife. He held her tightly and rocked her back and forth as the other Aurors gathered in the room, each of them with varying degrees of shock on their faces as they realized what had happened.

Ron saw the paper on the desk and moved toward it. With a shaking hand, he picked up what had been Christopher's final thoughts.

The page was scattered with the words "kill her" and crude renditions of the Dark Mark—a symbol he should have never known about. In the center of the page, there were two sentences. _I feel him taking over. He will not win._

As Ron looked at the grieving family on the floor, he knew that while Voldemort would never be able to hurt them again, he had likely finally destroyed the Boy Who Lived. It was a sick twist of fate.

**But this is how it REALLY ended...[next chapter]**


	20. Chapter 17 c

**Ok, for those of you who didn't see it before: There are THREE endings to this story because I couldn't decide how to end it. This is the "good" ending. Congratulations for making it this far. :) You beat the game. lol**

Twist of Fate

Chapter 17

Hermione heard Christopher's scream from a floor away. She looked up at the ceiling before she started running for the staircase. Her wand in hand, she took the stairs two at the time to reach Christopher as quickly as possible.

She burst through the door and saw him sitting in bed, drenched in sweat, with a look of terror on his face. Hermione was reminded of the last time she had seen Christopher in such a state and rushed to the boy.

She held her son tightly, just as she had the last time he had cried like this. She soothed him by softly singing a lullaby that her mother had once sang to her. She had him nearly calmed down when he started struggling against her, crying repeatedly "She's hurting him! She's hurting him!"

"Christopher!" Hermione had to shout, just to stop his struggles and cries.

Christopher stopped suddenly and stared at his mother with eyes that showed too much white from his fear. "She's hurting him," he nearly whispered before Hermione heard the phone ringing downstairs.

Shaking, Hermione took Christopher down the stairs with her. She reached the phone as it sounded for the fourth time. "Hello?" she asked with her heart in her throat.

"Hermione?" she heard. "It's Ron."

"Ron! Hi," Hermione replied, unable to hide the surprise in her voice. "What's going on?"

"I just got the message from Harry," Ron said. "The call came in about two hours ago. Anna's been found—she's in Scotland. They're out there now to bring her in. I'm going out there in a minute, but I wanted to pass the word on to you."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered. She blinked back the tears in her eyes as she readjusted Christopher on her hip. She cleared her throat. "Ron, will you...will you tell him to call me the minute he has the chance?" she asked. "I'm really worried about him."

"I will," Ron promised. He cleared his throat as the conversation fell into an awkward silence. "Can I ask—"

"I gave everything I had to our relationship, Ron," she replied. "I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't try to betray you, I just..." she sighed heavily. "I didn't love you like that. I'm sorry, Ron, but you're like a brother to me. I love you, but not that way..."

Ron sighed. "At least you're honest with me," he said. "And if that's all I get, then at least it's better than nothing. I'll tell Harry that you love him and he needs to cal you as soon as we get a minute."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said. She sighed as she put the phone back on the receiver. "What did you dream?" she asked her son.

"Anna is hurting Daddy," Christopher replied.

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and fought back her tears as she hugged Christopher tightly. She could only pray that Christopher didn't see.

Harry looked up at Anna. Mac, Caden, Bruce, and the other two Aurors were unconscious or bound by magic. Anna wanted Harry and Harry alone. He was amazed that she hadn't just killed any of them outright.

"Did you know that a piece of your soul transfers to your children when you have them?" she asked. "It's how children and mothers recognize each other even after years of separation. It happens with fathers and children as well. That's why Chris bonded to you both so quickly.

"That's also why he can see what I do. You see, Harry, you forgot something really important. Not only did you pass on a piece of your soul, you passed on the connection you had to my father. That's gone from you now, but Christopher still has a piece of Voldemort inside of him. As do I. You see, Harry, until you kill me and you kill your son, you will not have defeated Voldemort. You have not won."

With a scream of rage, Harry pushed himself to his feet and charged her, magic forgotten. He ran at her at full speed and crashed into her, knocking them both to the ground. He ignored Anna's screams as he hit her repeatedly in the face. Over and over, he punched her. He didn't hear her cries. He didn't hear his screams. He didn't feel the pain in his hands.

He also didn't notice when Anna's screams were silenced. He didn't notice that her spells broke with her death.

It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he even looked up. He saw Ron standing above him. "She's dead, Harry," he said softly. They were the only words.

Harry looked down at his shaking, bloody hands. His eyes took in Anna's battered face. He had literally beaten her to death. It was the first time since he had killed Voldemort that he had truly wanted anyone to die.

But this was the first time he had ever killed anyone with his bare hands.

Hermione paced back and forth. Christopher sat at the desk in the study, working quietly on his studies. He looked up at Hermione as she made her next circuit. Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt the urge to hurt her. She was an impure blemish in his perfect world. Intelligence was of little importance when it was put up next to purity of blood. He remembered Anna saying those things.

He suddenly, clearly, remembered the night the Brownings died. Yes, Anna had killed them in the fire, but only because he had informed her that his true father was Harry Potter. The Brownings were only killed because they knew that it would bring Christopher back to Harry. It would ensure that nothing would stand in the way of them completing the task Voldemort had set out on so many years ago.

But no. These were his parents. They loved him unconditionally. They had let him go for his safety and protection. They had believed that they were doing the right thing. And then, with the deaths of the Brownings, they stood up and became the parents they were meant to become. They had loved him, cared for him, and comforted him.

He knew he had to fight the darkness inside of himself, but he also knew that there wasn't a way for him to do it and be stronger than the piece inside of him that had latched on to every possible crack and crevice in his soul. This is what had happened to Anna; he saw that now. He remembered her being so nice in the beginning. Then, when she found out he was adopted, she began to change. She discovered who his parents were before anyone else had the chance. She was the one who formulated the plan to get into Harry's life again. She was the one who, more than anyone else, wanted to see Christopher back with Harry for the purpose of killing him to avenge her father.

Christopher looked back at Hermione. He thought about the possibilities that frightened him more than comforted him. What if they killed him? What if they hated him for what he was about to become? What if they decided that he was better off in an orphanage where no one would love him the way they had once loved him?  
What if they could cure him?

"Mum?" Christopher asked.

Hermione stopped pacing and looked at her son. "Hmm?" she asked.

Christopher cleared his throat. "What was it that made Dad the Chosen One?" he asked. "Why was he the Boy Who Lived?"

Hermione sighed. "Because the night Voldemort attacked him, a piece of his soul was transferred into Harry," she replied. "It connected them. It made it possible for Harry to see things that he couldn't possibly see, hear things he couldn't possibly hear and..." her voice trailed off and Christopher saw where her thoughts had taken her. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered as she sat down on the chair next to her. "Come here, Chris," she said.

Christopher obliged his mother's request and came to stand in front of her. She brushed his hair back. "When you dream, is it like you're actually Anna?" she asked. "Or is it like your watching what Anna's doing?"

Christopher didn't want to answer her because he knew that whatever answer he gave, it was going to be just like the one Harry would have given. "Sometimes I'm watching," he said. "But usually, I'm Anna..."

Hermione sighed before she wrapped Christopher in a tight embrace. "Oh, my sweet boy," she whispered with tears burning her eyes. "How do I fix this?" she whispered.

Harry burst through his office door and went directly to his desk. He ripped one of the drawers out, sending papers and files everywhere. He knelt and began sorting through everything until he found exactly what he had been hoping to find. He unfolded the papers and scanned everything while Ron stood above him, completely dumbfounded.

"Here!" Harry said, pointing to a line on the paper. "We don't have much time," he said before he stood and nearly ran from the room. He passed Mac and the other Aurors who were standing outside, just as confused as Ron was.

Harry didn't stop moving until he was back at Grimmauld Place. He burst through the front door and ran into the study just off of the hallway, thankful to see Hermione and Christopher in one piece. He ran to her and took Christopher from her arms. He held the boy up and looked into his brown eyes. Deep, in the bowels, he saw that flash of red and knew that Anna's story was true.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "What are you doing?"

"He's an accidental Horcrux, just like I was," Harry replied.

"Harry, no!" Hermione cried, trying to take Christopher back. She knew that there was only one way to stop a Horcrux from being a Horcrux. "You are not hurting him!"

Harry sat down with Christopher on his lap. He met the boy's eyes again. "How close is it?" he asked.

Somehow, Christopher understood the question. "Becoming too much to hold in," he replied.

Harry nodded before he kissed his son's forehead. "I love you," he whispered. He looked up at Ron. "Get Hermione out of here," he said.

"No!" Hermione protested. "Harry, you can't! He's our _son!_"

"I'm very much aware of what he is, Hermione," Harry said, looking up at her. "I need you to leave the room. I can't do this with you in here."

"I won't let you hurt him, Harry!" Hermione cried. She tried to pry Christopher from Harry's grasp, but Christopher wouldn't let his father go. He clasped his arms around Harry's neck and screamed.

Harry reached up and held Hermione's face in his hands. "Hermione, I need you trust me," he said in a soft, calm voice. "I need you to believe me. I'm going to do my best to _help_ Chris, but I can't have you in here while I do that. Please. Go with Ron."

Hermione stared at Harry with tears welling up in her eyes. She felt those tears spill over and forced herself to let go and trust that Harry knew what he was doing. She kissed them both before letting Ron take her out of the study.

Harry stayed sitting on the sofa. Mac refused to leave the room, but ordered the others to stand outside and only come in if there was a problem. Harry grabbed his wand and held it to his son's temple. He closed his eyes and focused on the very root of his magic. He remembered what it felt like to have a piece of Voldemort trapped inside of him. He focused on that feeling and he reached for it inside of Christopher.

This, he knew, was something that could only be done to a person who had become a horcrux. It could not be done to any object. Still, it was the first time he had attempted it, and it was the only possible solution given Voldemort's current non-existent state. It was almost more dangerous than being killed.

Black smoke began to come out of the joint of Harry's wand and Christopher's head. Mac started to step forward but stopped himself when he realized it was forming the shape of a Dark Mark.

After nearly five minutes, Harry pulled the wand away from his son's head. The Dark Mark stayed attached to his wand. Harry stood with Christopher in his arms, and walked to the fireplace, where a blaze was already burning. Harry guided the smoke toward the fire, but it seemed that the closer it got to the flames, the harder it became to move his arm. Eventually, Harry's arm was shaking with the effort.

"BURN YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Harry shouted before he screamed and put everything he had into burning the last pieces of Voldemort's soul. The smoke went into the flames and Voldemort's voice came from the fire in a high-pitched scream of pain and anguish. Mac stared in horror, having never seen anything quite like it before.

Harry fell to his knees, panting and sweating profusely. Christopher slipped from his arms and passed out on the floor next to his father. Harry swayed as the door opened and Hermione rushed in. She went to Christopher first, cradling him and making sure that he was alive. When his eyes fluttered, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention to Harry, who looked impossibly pale and fragile.

Harry met Hermione's eyes and smiled briefly before he passed out on the floor as well.

***Eight Months Later***

Christopher ran up to where his parents sat on the back porch, drinking iced tea in the warm afternoon. They smiled at him and he held out a flower that he had picked to Hermione. She took it from him with a smile. "It's for Lily," he said before he ran off again. Hermione chuckled and held the flower to the small baby in her arms. "See that, Lily?" she asked softly. "You have a big brother taking good care of you."

Harry looked over at the two best women in his life. "Yes she does," he said softly before taking a sip of his drink. Everything had been good for the last eight months, and he prayed that it continued to stay that way.

**AN: Ok, so the reason there are three endings is simply this: I couldn't decide which way I wanted to go. Part of me wanted to go Shakespearian on this whole deal (hence the first of the three endings). That ending was written first and kinda broke my heart. I loved the ending for its impact, but I didn't want to do that to Harry and Hermione. Hence the second ending where I still destroy that part of Voldemort. Then I thought about how Hermione reacted the first time they lost Christopher so I vetoed that because I didn't want to rip them apart again after almost five years of nothingness. So I wrote this ending. Ironically, this was the hardest ending for me to write. I wanted them to be happy, but I didn't want to spoil them. I also wanted a new baby for them, but I didn't get the chance to reveal it either. So I gave them a daughter in the mini "epilogue" that you see above. I also didn't want to break too many hearts with the ending here. Since I ended up loving all of the endings, each one was posted here. You can ask my husband: I agonized over this! lol**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did. Look for more HP awesomeness to come! This is been a joy to write and I'm cooking up new stories as I type. Keep an eye out for them and don't forget to review! :D**


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